Take Your Time
by Montana-Rosalie
Summary: Killian is sick. It's a lucky coincidence that Emma is a doctor who doesn't know when to quit.
1. Prologue

**Hey guys. I know I sort of dropped off the face of the Earth the day Adri passed away, but I just needed time to come to grips with her absence. Today marks six months since she's been gone and I still miss her so much; this story has been a way for me to get closer to her, because at the end of summer she asked me when I would write her a CS House AU... I told her I'd finish my book first, but the book has been abandoned and I don't know if I'm going to get back to it, so I decided to focus my energy into what she wanted to read instead. Writing this has been an uphill battle without Adri's encouragement and ideas, but I have half the story finished, and I fervently hope you will enjoy it. I'm not on tumblr anymore, but if you want to talk, you can send me a message here.  
**

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Exactly a year ago today Dr. Emma Swan had blown out a single candle on a cupcake and wished not to be alone anymore. This year, there is a proper cake with chocolate icing in front of her and twenty-nine candles carefully arranged on it so as not to disturb the writing that reads „Happy bday E".

The impromptu celebration is being held in the conference room and out of the seven people in attendance, only Henry Mills looks content to be there, but then again, the surprise party had been his idea, and Emma is pretty sure that the big part of the reason people turned up for it during working hours is that his adoptive mother is the Dean of Medicine in Mercy Hospital, and therefore the boss of all of them.

"Make a wish, Emma," Henry urges her and Emma ignores the way Regina rolls her eyes, smiling at her once lost child before she closes her eyes and tries to find something good to wish for.

After all, it had worked last year, somehow sending Henry on a quest to look for her, which in turn prompted Emma to uproot her life and come work for his adoptive mother just so she could be close to him.

"I am so sorry I'm late!" Mary Margaret dashes into the room and Emma opens her eyes, grinning at her mother and marveling once more at the ridiculous twist of fate that had put her up to volunteering in this hospital, allowing them to reconnect after twenty-eight years of being apart.

"Can we get on with this already?" Dr. Whale asks and looks at his watch. "I'm sure we all have one or two patients that might keel over if this goes on for much longer."

August and Dr. Hood exchange a meaningful look as Mary Margaret slides into an unoccupied seat and waves her hand at Emma to blow out her candles.

"David is held up in traffic."

Emma closes her eyes and concentrates again, but the wish isn't forthcoming; she's got her son, she's got her parents and a good friend in Elsa even though she doesn't see enough of her because of their crazy schedules… Some would say that she should probably work on finding a romantic love, but Emma doesn't have neither time nor particular inclination, but as she casts around for that elusive _something_ she decides to just get it over with and simply wish for love.

 _I wish to find a good, reliable partner_ , she thinks and blows out all her candles in one go, opening her eyes to Henry's beaming face.

"You can't tell anybody what you wished for, otherwise it won't come true," he informs her, looking much younger than his twelve years when he grins like this.

"I'm fairly sure Dr. Swan is well aware of the rules of birthday-wishing," Regina says and hands Emma the knife, pushing the paper plates closer to the cake; the Dean is always so efficient that Emma is often left feeling inferior.

"I really must go," Dr. Hood announces and leans over the table to give Regina a quick kiss on the cheek before nodding at Emma and saluting Henry on his way out the door.

Ruby and Belle look the most eager for cake so Emma serves them first, all of a sudden feeling oddly full of anticipation, but she contributes it to the fact that they hadn't had a truly challenging case in a few weeks, and all of them are on edge because of what such inertion does to Dr. Gold, their immediate boss and Head of Department of Diagnostic Medicine.

It's entirely at odds with Hippocratic Oath and they are all well aware of it, but dealing with Gold when he's in one of his moods is marginally worse than trying to nurse severely sick people back to health when you don't even know what's wrong with them.

"We have a case."

Speak of the Devil.

Gold limps into the conference room and the nurses immediately set down their half-eaten slices of cake, making themselves scarce without even a glance in Emma's direction.

"I'll take the cake," Mary Margaret says and puts the cover on the white confection while Emma cleans up the table, smiling at Henry because he's not giving up eating, not even for Gold's sake.

"Come on people, this one is time-sensitive," Gold says and Emma looks up in surprise because there's something uncharacteristically gleeful about his voice, and judging by the way August's eyebrows shoot up, he'd noticed it too.

Henry shoves one more forkful of cake in his mouth and says goodbye to Emma, running out ahead of Mary Margaret, who's going to watch him until Regina is free to take him home.

"The Jones case?" Regina asks and pauses on her way out, but Gold cuts her off before she can say anything else.

"Yes, he's a very important person to some and we shall handle him with kid gloves."

"He's got connections in all the major newspapers. We don't want him to talk to his reporter friends about your unorthodox methods, or God forbid writing a piece himself."

Gold grins in an awfully unpleasant way, then nods and closes the door as soon as Regina gives him one last warning look and leaves the room.

"Who's the patient?" August asks as Gold throws the file on the table and Emma pulls it closer, somewhat annoyed with the fact that neither of her male colleagues will bother to read it, counting on Emma to provide them with information.

"Killian Jones."

"That supposed to mean something to us?" Whale asks, lounging in his chair and looking as if he'd rather be anywhere else, which seems to be his default setting.

"He's something of an adventurer, sailing the seas on his ship and writing travelogues that seem to be really popular among women," Gold says mockingly and Emma drums her fingers on the file, eager to start reading it.

"Let me guess; he picked up some obscure disease on his last travel," August suggests, sliding to the edge of his seat because if that is the case, they probably won't need a surgeon and he'll be free to go flirt with the nurses.

Emma is fond of him and therefore amused that he's always so predictable, a perfect cliché of a cocky, arrogant surgeon come to life in one handsome, scruffy package.

"Perhaps, but we will probably need your services before the week it through," Gold says and Emma wishes he'd just get on with it.

He's usually not this mysterious, and Emma's fingers are itching to open the file so that she can see for herself what all the fuss is about.

Gold limps over to the blackboard and turns to them, pausing for effect before he starts briefing them on the case.

"Killian Jones, age 33, originally from Sheffield. Admitted to Maine Medical Center E.R. on October 15th after spending the night sleeping in the snow outside a pub downtown, drunk off his ass, severely hypothermic and somewhat frostbitten."

Emma and August wince and make it a point not to look at Whale who has been known to come to work hung-over, arguably even tipsy.

"He's lucky to be alive; I spent that night on the couch in the nurse's station because my car wouldn't start and I didn't feel like taking the bus in below zero temperatures."

"As if you would if it wasn't below zero," Whale says and Emma tips her said to the side because she agrees; Dr. August Booth finds public transport way below him.

"At any rate," Gold continues, "they managed to raise his body temperature, he lost a few badly affected fingers and everybody thought that would be the end of it."

"But?" Emma prompts impatiently when Gold pauses again because he's really starting to get on her nerves.

"But he's still in the hospital. His feet and hands are still hurting him and have turned blue almost completely."

"Ischemia?"

"Obviously. But why?"

"Not the elements?"

"He's getting worse," Emma points out and Whale rolls his eyes.

"Probably diabetes."

"Except his sugar levels are normal," Gold says with malice and Emma starts feeling extremely uncomfortable; it's not the first time he's excited about a case, but something about his behavior today rubs her the wrong way.

It's almost like he's enjoying the fact that they don't have the right answer.

"Atherosclerosis?"

"Could be."

"Lupus?"

"It's never lupus."

"There's always a first time," August says with a chuckle and Emma resists the urge to kick him under the table.

"Could be autoimmune."

"You are as helpful as ever, Dr. Swan," Gold says and she counts to ten in her head because the only way of dealing with him is to ignore his jabs.

"Has he been transferred here already?

"A few hours ago. I ordered a full series of tests again because God knows what they did over at Medical", Gold says and glances at his pocket watch. "Should be done poking him by now."

"We could've finished the cake then. The results won't be for at least another hour," August says sourly and Emma can't help smiling to herself.

"You heard our dear Dean; she wants us to be on our best behavior, so let's show her we can be perfectly courteous and go meet our patient," Gold says and leads the way out of the conference room, Emma, August and Whale following after him like a safe of puzzled ducklings.

If there's one thing they know about Gold, it's that he doesn't meet the patients until it's unavoidable.

* * *

 **Review?**


	2. One Long Day

**I was so nervous about posting the Prologue but you guys alleviated my fears with your feedback, and I can't thank you enough for that. This fic is the hardest one I've ever written, not just because Adri isn't here to help me, but also because of the medical stuff I've put together with quite a bit of research; still, I'm sure that it would be too easy to pick it apart, so keep in mind that I'm not a doctor, and that some things were tweaked for the purpose of the story moving forward. I hope you enjoy, and you can expect the next chapter on Friday.  
**

* * *

Killian Jones is not what Emma had expected. They all crowd into his hospital room and Gold introduces himself, looking puzzled when their patient offers his hand for a handshake and wincing when Killian's fingers envelop his briefly.

"This is my team; Dr. Whale, a neurologist, Dr. Booth, our resident surgeon and Dr. Swan, an immunologist and an occasional nurse," Gold says and Killian nods to each of them in turn, his astoundingly blue eyes lingering on her face a tiny bit longer than the others'.

"Nice to meet you all," Killian says and Emma can't help a chill that runs down her spine at the way his accent shapes words, making him seem even more polite.

None of them are used to patients so composed and calm, because by the time they are put in their care, they have already been through a lot, and they aren't any closer to getting healthy.

If there wasn't for dark circles under Killian's eyes, his bandaged hand and the blue tips of his fingers, Emma would think that he's just in for a regular check-up, instead of waiting for them to figure out if whatever he's got is life-threatening as well as potentially disabling.

"I'm sure you've been through this a couple of times already, but I have to ask again. Can you tell us about your symptoms?" Gold asks and Emma flips open a notebook, her pen poised for notes.

"Which ones?"

"You've been complaining about the pain in your hands and feet?"

"I've had that pain for years," Killian says and Emma looks up from the page in surprise.

"Have you seen a doctor before being hospitalized?"

"I did. He ran some tests, found them inconclusive and suggested more exercise and fresh air," Killian answers her with a wry smile.

"Is that when you took up sailing?"

"I've been sailing since before I could walk," Killian tells her and Emma makes a note of it, inwardly cursing the physician who had clearly messed up.

"You didn't ask for a second opinion?" August asks and Killian shrugs, telling them that it really isn't that bad as long as he didn't sit still for too long.

"You've been in the hospital for a week now. How does it reflect on the pain?" Whale asks what Emma was meaning to and it's impossible to miss the way Killian's jaw ticks before he answers.

"Getting worse every day."

Emma looks at Gold, prepared to jump in before he makes an inappropriate comment as he's wont to do but aside from looking like he's trying to hold back a smile, Gold remains quiet.

"When did your limbs start turning blue?" Emma asks and comes closer to the bed, gently taking Killian's hand in hers, studying his long fingers and feeling embarrassingly aware of the rush of his skin on hers as she presses her thumb against his knuckle.

"At the end of the Summer, I think."

"You think?"

There's a decidedly mocking tone to Gold's voice and Emma gives him a warning look over her shoulder, but he doesn't even acknowledge her.

"Most people wouldn't ignore a thing like that."

"Most people hope to live as long as possible," Killian says and meets Gold's gaze square on.

"Is that why you got so drunk you almost ended up dying of hypothermia? Because you don't care whether you live or die?" Whale asks and Emma marvels at the speed with which this conversation is revealing a side of Killian Jones that the public was never aware of.

"The reason I get drunk is none of your business," Killian answers sharply, his calm shattering for just a moment before he gets himself under control and continues in a quiet, even voice. "It's got nothing to do with whatever's wrong with me."

"I'll be the judge of that. How often do you get drunk?" Gold asks and Killian leans back against his pillow, staring at the ceiling for a moment.

His fingers flex and Emma realizes with a start that she's still holding his hand, and also that it's not pride stopping him from answering right away.

It's pain.

"I would say a few times a week."

"And do you smoke?"

"Used to."

"When did you stop?"

"Last week."

Killian's fingers relax and the smile he gives Emma is entirely too unfair; she shouldn't find it so endearing that he's capable of making jokes even if they are bad, but she ones.

God help her but there is not a single thing about him that doesn't throw her, and when she abruptly releases his hand he gives her a knowing look that annoys her enough to allow her to return to her usual clinical and professional self.

"How much did you smoke before quitting?"

"I don't know," he says, and Emma knows what that means.

Too much.

"Where did you travel recently?" She asks him, hoping for an answer that will shed some light on his condition because so far, she doesn't have a single likely idea.

"I haven't left Portland this year," Killian tells her with an almost imperceptible catch in his voice and she realizes that she might have to find a way to get him to open up to her if she hopes to cure him of whatever's ailing him.

"And last year?"

"Just one brief trip to England and back."

"Curious." Gold says and Emma jots down a few notes just to appear like she's doing something.

It's been a while since she felt so out of her depth with a case.

"Let's see how your hand is healing," Gold says and pulls a pair of latex gloves from his pocket, walking to the cupboard in the corner of the room and taking out the scissors and some fresh bandages.

Emma knows him well enough to know that he's probably chasing after some elusive idea, but she's not prepared for what greets them when he cuts through the bandage.

The remaining three fingers on Killian's left hand are so darkly blue they appear black, and the back of his hand is just marginally better.

"Distal pulse?" August asks, coming closer to see better, but Emma can't seem to tear her gaze from Killian's face.

He's staring at his hand with a mixture of disbelief and panic, for the first time looking genuinely scared.

"I can't tell," Gold says and steps back. "You try, Dr. Swan."

"What's happening?" Killian asks, his eyes darting between her face and his hand and Emma makes her way around the bed, already resigned to what she'll find.

Or, rather, what she won't.

"Your hand isn't getting enough blood supply so the tissue is dying," she says, but it's clear he doesn't get what she's telling him, but before she can break it to him gently, Gold says one word.

"Gangrene."

Killian's eyes widen in shock and she closes her eyes, pressing her fingers to his joints in turn and searching for a pulse that proves to be painfully elusive.

The whole world seems to be holding their breath, but no matter how hard she tries, she doesn't feel anything until she reaches his wrist.

"Just the radial," she announces and gently sets his hand down.

"What does that mean?" Killian asks and Emma opens her eyes to find him looking at her, ignoring the three other doctors in the room because he probably thinks she's the best chance he's got for receiving good news.

She hates to disappoint him, but she doesn't shy away from the responsibility even though August would be better equipped to answer his questions.

After all, he's the one who's going to operate.

"It means that we're going to have to amputate your hand, Mr. Jones."

"In the meantime, I'll order arteriography. You've got either vasculitis or an autoimmune disease, and it's going to take some time figuring out which one is it," Gold tells him and Emma wishes for the millionth time he would show more tact when talking to their patients. "Book the O.R. for tomorrow morning, Dr. Booth."

Killian opens his mouth but Gold just tells him to talk to Emma if he's got any questions, limping out of the room without a goodbye, Whale and Booth following close behind.

"What in the Devil's name did just happen?"

"Dr. Gold is a brilliant doctor, but his bedside manner leaves a lot to be desired. I'm sorry," Emma speaks the same words she'd spoken what seems like a thousand times before in the past year, trying to soothe the burn of Gold's unfeeling attitude.

"You don't have anything to apologize for, lass," Killian tells her and she stands awkwardly next to his bed, waiting for the barrage of questions that will undoubtedly follow. "There's no way to save my hand?"

"It's too far gone already."

"How is that possible? They were changing my bandages daily and it didn't look anywhere nearly as bad yesterday," Killian tells her, the desperate note in his voice resonating within her like an echo of something she had never experienced before, but always knew she wanted.

"We won't know that until we figure out your diagnosis."

"And if you don't?"

"We will. I've been in Dr. Gold's team for almost a year and we have yet to lose a patient," Emma tells him, but she can tell from the look in his eyes that he'd already figured out what she wishes she didn't know.

"I resemble a Smurf more and more every day. Does that mean that the longer this condition of mine goes untreated, the more limbs I'll lose?"

"It is a possibility," Emma says, not even bothering with false hope.

He seems to be the kind of man who likes to know his odds, and no matter how sorry she is about it, he needs to know that right now, they don't look good.

Killian nods to himself and turns his head away, looking out through the window at the gray sky that threatens rain, and Emma catches herself lingering, checking his chart and deciding to up the dosage of his pain medicine a bit.

"I'll come check up on you tomorrow morning," she says, then flees the room feeling foolish because there is no indication whatsoever that Killian might find some comfort in her presence.

And even if he did, it's not her place to offer him that.

Her job is to figure out what's wrong and somehow fix it.

And nothing beyond that.

* * *

Emma intends to bury herself in paperwork for the rest of the afternoon, but she barely starts when her father knocks on the doorway of the office she shares with Whale and Booth and comes around the desk to wish her happy birthday.

"Sorry I missed the surprise party," David says and hugs her tightly, his hand holding the back of her neck and keeping her in his arms.

It always takes her a moment to relax into a hug, but where other people step back and release her awkwardly, David Nolan never does; he holds her for a full minute, and when he does let go, she feels good and light.

She feels loved.

"It's okay. Didn't last long anyway."

"Let me guess. Gold showed up with a new case," David says and sits on the edge of the desk, activating the annoying perpetual motion toy August likes to stare at when he's supposed to be doing his paperwork.

"He did. But Henry managed to finish eating his slice, and that's all that matters."

"And the case? You guys already cracked it?" David asks her, his infectious smile making her own lips tip up at the corners, if only for a moment.

"Not yet."

"But you will."

"I hope so," she says, and her father tips his head to the side, regarding her steadily.

"You're shaken up. You're never shaken up," he tells her and lies his hand on her shoulder, offering her quiet support she didn't even knew she needed.

"I'm fine."

"Do you ever feel like it's too much? The pain and suffering?"

Ever since she was a little girl, Emma had wanted to be a doctor. She didn't let an unwanted pregnancy stop her from achieving that goal, and even though there are hard days to get through, she knows that she would never be able to do something else.

She was trained to help people, and watching them hurt is something she'd gotten used to along the way.

But sometimes, it's different.

"Sometimes it's harder than usual," Emma tells her father and lies her hand on top of his. "But I can handle it."

"That's my girl," David says affectionately and leans down to press a kiss to her forehead. "Coming to dinner tomorrow night?"

"I'll try."

"Call if you're busy, and I'll bring the dinner here," he tells her and waves goodbye before walking out, quietly closing the door.

Emma leans back in her chair and closes her eyes for a moment, then dives back into her paperwork.

* * *

Killian's arteriography is done just as Emma starts contemplating going to the cafeteria for another cup of coffee, so she sighs and goes to the conference room instead, hoping for some good news.

"Ah, Dr. Swan, nice of you to join us," Gold says when Emma comes in, and she's just too tired to take his usual shit.

"Didn't have to wait for me to start."

"She's here now, so can we do this?" August jumps in and for a moment Gold glares at him, but then decides to let it go and spreads the arteriograms on the table.

"As I have anticipated, the results are inconclusive."

"Then why do you look so happy?" Emma asks, frowning at Gold's creepy grin before she starts studying the arteriograms.

"Mind your tone, Dr. Swan," he warns her, but Emma barely hears him.

"Buerger's Disease," she whispers, tracing the arteries that look like little corkscrews with the tip of her index finger. "Look at this!"

"It's not Buerger's Disease," Gold huffs impatiently and stalks over to the blackboard. "He's getting worse and he quit smoking."

"It's only been a week!" Emma exclaims, then feels icy fingers slide down her spine as the joy of discovery gets destroyed by the knowledge that there is no known cure for Buerger's Disease.

"Whale? Any ideas that make sense?"

"Start testing for autoimmune diseases and hope we find the right one before his condition worsens."

"Let's at least give him corticosteroids," Emma suggests, but Gold shakes his head.

"It could mess up the tests. In fact, aside from the antibiotics after the surgery tomorrow, I don't want him to get any other kind of drug."

"You can't withhold the pain medication!" Emma argues, looking at August for help. "Tell him!"

"He's right, Emma. If has to be autoimmune, and we'll have a greater chance of discovering which one it is without meds screwing up our tests."

"Is this some kind of an unsanctioned trial? We have had dozens of patients here where we suspected an autoimmune disease, but you never suggested something like this?!" Emma exclaims, wincing at the thought of recovering from a major surgery without any meds to help deal with the pain.

"Because we never had a case like this. Because there were always other symptoms that made our job easier," Gold says, and he looks at her in a way that makes it perfectly clear that she should not say anything else because he will make her regret it.

Ultimately, he's the one who hired her, and Regina would jump on the opportunity to boot her from the hospital.

All Gold needs to do is say that she's no longer useful to him.

"Do the tests, Dr. Swan. After all, it's your area of expertise."

Emma walks out of the conference room with her head held high, but everybody knows she'd been beaten.

* * *

 **Review?**


	3. First Cut Isn't the Deepest

**I know I keep saying this, but you guys are just too good to me with your encouragement and positive feedback, and it means the world to me; it makes it easier to write these chapters when I know that my fics touch you deeply, so thank you for taking the time to tell me about your feels. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and you can expect the next one on Monday.  
**

* * *

It's precisely 7 a.m. when Emma gets out of her apartment, sipping at her scalding coffee in between locking the door and descending the stairway, trying to wake up sufficiently enough to drive. Her morning schedule never deviates; she wakes up, drives to Regina's house and walks Henry to school, then catches a bus while Regina drives her ancient VW beetle to the hospital, and despite her regular grumblings and badmouthing Emma's car, somehow their arrangement works.

Both of them have Henry's best interest at heart, and even though they had a rocky start, things have been running smoothly for a while now and it's a great relief to Emma.

She parks the car in the Mills' driveway and Henry rushes to her side, opening the door and taking her coffee as she climbs out, leaving the keys in the ignition as per agreement.

"We need to hurry today," Henry informs her when she takes back her coffee and she has to lengthen her steps to catch up to him.

"What's today?"

"The science fair! Don't you remember?" Henry asks and Emma bites her lip because she did forget because she'd been preoccupied with their new case, but now it's coming back to her.

"You are showing them your volcano project, right?"

"Yes! The teacher let me into the school yesterday evening and Robin helped me assemble it. I really wish you could be there to see it blow."

"I know, kid. I wish I could be there too, but-"

"But you have a new important patient and you have to take care of him. Mom explained it."

"She did?" Emma asks, pleasantly surprised that Regina is done using her work to paint Emma in a bad light.

"I looked through his book. Did you know that he sailed around the world three times? I wonder if it took him less than eighty days," Henry muses and Emma is overwhelmed with affection for her boy, awed with his intelligence and hunger for discovery.

Sometimes she can't believe that she and Neal had managed to create something so good.

"Did you meet him yet?"

"Who?" Emma shakes herself out of her reverie, for a moment afraid that he's talking about Neal.

"Killian Jones?"

"Oh, him. Yes I did."

"And? Can you help him?"

"It's only been a day, Henry," she says vaguely, not quite willing to tell Henry that so far their help consisted of tests and some painkillers, which they will follow up with an amputation more tests, and no painkillers.

"I hope he'll recover quickly so he can go on another adventure," Henry says and she smiles, ruffling his hair before she watches him run into the school building, his schoolbag bouncing on his back.

"Me too, kid," she says quietly and crosses the road to get to the bus station.

* * *

Emma gets to the hospital ten minutes to 8 a.m. so she heads straight to Killian's room, knowing that neither August nor Gold are going to bother making an appearance before his surgery, leaving the prepping to the nurses.

It's nothing new, and Emma is used to giving pep talks, but today she feels nervous and at a loss; for the first time it occurs to her that losing his hand might threaten Killian's livelihood, but his condition is what it is and there's simply no alternative.

"Good morning," she says, trying to sound confident even though she feels anything but as she steps into his room.

"Morning, Swan," he says, watching her approach his bed and drop her bag on a chair next to it before quickly tying her hair up in a ponytail.

He doesn't comment on her lack of scrubs and she's grateful for that.

"Came to see me off?"

"We sprung a lot on you yesterday. I came to see if you had any additional questions," Emma says as she looks over his chart, seeking a way to distance herself from him.

She's forever getting too close to their patients, and for once she plans on following Gold's advice, the gist of which is that she's not supposed to be their friend, just their doctor.

"You don't know what's wrong with me so you're going to do tests until you figure it out, and in the meantime I should count myself lucky if my hand ends up being the only part I lose in the process," Killian says and she can't resist the pull of his eyes, meeting his blue gaze and realizing with a start that it feels a little bit like diving into the ocean. "Anything else you want to clarify?"

"You pretty much covered it," Emma tells him and takes his hand in hers, checking for the pulse again, hoping against all hope that somehow, she'll find it today.

"How long will it take?" He asks her once she sets his hand back down, his voice washing over her and making her feel like she'd been put under a spell.

"The surgery? If there are no complications, a couple of hours."

"Complications such as?"

"No surgery comes without risks, Mr. Jones. Is there anybody coming to be with you afterwards?"

"Mr. Jones was my father, and he's gone, along with my mother and brother. You can call me Killian."

"I really can't, Mr. Jones. What about a friend?"

"There's no one coming," he says, and even though he doesn't raise his voice, there's pure ice in his tone that makes goosebumps appear on Emma's forearms.

"Then I'll be here when you wake up", she tells him, and it comes out sounding completely inappropriate.

"You make a habit of it, or should I feel special?" He asks her with a cheeky grin that reveals dimples in his scruffy cheeks and for a moment Emma forgets why are they even here.

She's in trouble and it doesn't help her any that she's perfectly aware of it.

"I am one of your physicians. It's our job to look after you," she tells him, hating the fact that now he's going to think she can't stand up to her male colleagues, ending up with assignments nobody else wants.

"I'm pretty sure that sitting with me until I wake up isn't in your job description," Killian says and she shakes her head because now he's openly flirting, but she can't blame him because he's probably just looking for a way not to think about what's about to happen.

"Depends on the circumstances," she tells him and almost jumps when Ruby and Belle come in and announce that they've come for him.

"See you when I wake up, then, Swan," he murmurs and she holds the door opened as the nurses roll him out of the room, looking after them until they round the bend in the hallway on their way to the elevator.

"See you, Killian."

* * *

Emma keeps herself busy throughout the morning, making a round on Immunology ward and adjusting medicine to a couple of patients, talking to Mrs. Miller for half an hour about her various pains and playing with Ellie Wright, a rambunctious five-year-old who had spent a month in the hospital already and whose greatest wish is to go home before Christmas.

It's not probable that she'd be well enough by then, but Emma can never muster up enough courage to give her a definitive answer when she asks, but she spends time with her whenever she can.

Her thoughts stray to Killian more often than she'd like, but she resists the urge to go to the O.R. gallery and watch over August perform the surgery; it's not just because Gold would make nasty comments if he found her there, but also because she simply does not want to see the moment Killian's hand is no longer attached to his body.

Emma doesn't analyze why she feels that way too closely, going to her office instead and making a list of autoimmune diseases she plans to check for, trying not to give into bitterness over the fact that even though she's fairly sure he's got Buerger's, the definite test to prove it doesn't exist.

She lasts until 11 a.m., but then she breaks and calls the O.R. to check if the surgery is over; the nurse on duty informs her that everything went according to plan and that the patient should be back in his room in about half an hour.

"Thank you," Emma says and breathes a sigh of relief only after she hangs up, then picks up her phone and selects Elsa from her list of contacts. "Do you have time for coffee?"

"Hello to you too, Ems," Elsa chuckles and Emma listens to the screams of newborns for a while before Elsa finds a quiet corner.

"Delivered any new babies?"

"Five this week. I am on a roll," Elsa tells her, and Emma gets up from her chair as soon as she hears the ping of the elevator on her friend's side. "See you in the cafeteria in five minutes."

"On my way."

Emma and Elsa have been working in the same hospital for a year, but didn't meet until a few months ago when they both reached for the last white peasant blouse in H&M. Elsa let Emma have the blouse and accepted coffee in return, but as they waited for it to be made they started talking and found that they had more in common than just fashion sense.

"Tough case?" Elsa asks as soon as Emma sits down across the table from her and takes a careful sip of her cappuccino.

Emma can't understand how she can function on such light stuff, but Elsa hates how coffee tastes, and apparently doesn't need the caffeine to wake up in the morning, or the middle of the night when some newborns decide it's time to come into the world.

"What makes you say that?"

"You only call me for coffee this early when you're worried about somebody."

"Really?"

"Yep. How long has it been without a diagnosis? Over a week?"

"Actually, we only admitted him yesterday. He spent a week in Maine Medical, though," Emma says, stirring sugar into her coffee and watching it swirl in the paper cup.

"A day?" Elsa lifts her eyebrows and leans forward in her chair. "A bit too soon to be worried then."

"August is finishing amputating his hand as we speak. His hands and feet are blue, it's not diabetes and the results are inconclusive for any kind of vasculitis. I think it's Buerger's, Gold thinks it's autoimmune, and he's being weird about it. You know how pushy he can get, but he was out of control yesterday."

"Wow, that does sound tricky."

Emma can't help but laugh, admiring Elsa for always finding the right thing to say to make her feel better.

"I didn't really call you to talk about my case… I wanted not to think about it for a bit, so tell me, how are your babies?"

"All five of them came precisely on time, and aside for baby Hunt, they will be going home with their parents as per the usual schedule."

"What's wrong with baby Hunt?"

"Jaundice. He'll just stay with us a few days longer, but his mother is driving me crazy. I know she worries, but she's going overboard. Poor kid."

"Be happy that you won't have to see her once you release him," Emma says and glances at the lunch menu, deciding to eat now so she can be with Killian later.

Elsa returns to her ward and Emma pokes at her pasta, keeping her eye on the clock and leaving the cafeteria at 11:30 a.m. on the dot.

* * *

Emma brings paperwork to Killian's room and spreads it over the unoccupied bed a few minutes before the door opens and the nurses roll him in. They don't comment on her presence and leave as soon as Killian's bed is back where it belongs, clearly grateful for the opportunity to squeeze lunch into their busy schedule.

Killian is still under the influence of anesthesia, breathing deeply and evenly, and Emma doesn't feel even a little bit guilty for studying the lines of his face before she lets her gaze slide down his arm to the white bandage neatly wrapped around his stump.

The sight throws her, and she frowns because she'd seen much, much worse since she became a doctor, so she forces herself to look at it until his missing hand doesn't seem like the end of the world anymore.

It's not the end of the world, and she hopes Killian will cope as well as he did up until now once he wakes up.

Emma turns back to her work and somehow manages to focus on the papers in her lap in between looking up to make sure Killian is still comfortable, and it's almost an hour later when he starts stirring, his legs moving under the covers and a soft moan escaping his lips.

"Mr. Jones? Can you hear me?" She asks, coming to sit on the side of his bed and laying her hand on his shoulder.

"Hurts", he says and tries to reach for his bad arm, but Emma catches his wandering fingers and holds them in her own.

His hand is cold and blue but his grip is strong, and Emma is grateful for that even if he's squeezing her a bit too strong.

"I know it hurts. We can't give you painkillers just yet," Emma tells him, trying to soothe him with both her touch and her voice.

Gold would have a field day with her if he could see her doing this.

Killian frowns and struggles to open his eyes, his eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings against his cheeks, the muscle in his jaw jumping when he grits his teeth and forces himself awake.

"Hey," Emma says softly when he finally manages, watching him lick his lips and informing him that he's not supposed to have anything to eat or drink for another hour.

"There's two of you," he tells her as he squints up at her, then closes one eyes experimentally before realizing it makes no difference.

"Just the aftereffects of anesthesia. It will pass soon."

"I feel sick," he says, sounding more surprised than worried.

"Also an aftereffect. Some people find it easier to deal with it when they close their eyes."

Killian tries, but then tells her that the room is spinning and opens them again.

They look at each other for a full minute without uttering a word and Emma resists the urge to brush his thick, dark hair away from his forehead.

"Your hair shines like gold," he tells her and she should not take the compliment to heart considering his drugged state, but she can't remember anybody telling her anything as poetic as that. "Are you sure you can't give me something for the pain?"

"Nice try, but no," she tells him, trying to keep it light even though she knows that this can't be easy for him.

"You do have lovely hair," Killian says, lifting his left arm as if to touch the end of her ponytail that had spilled over her shoulder, then winces and sets it back down. "Damn, that hurt."

"Try to keep your arm as still as possible."

"I can still feel my hand," he tells her quietly, as if he's sharing a secret, and she launches into a medical explanation for that occurrence because she knows she's toeing the line of professional conduct and the last thing she wants is to cross it.

"It will get easier."

"If you say so, Swan," Killian murmurs and closes his eyes, eventually going back to sleep.

Emma keeps sitting on the edge of his bed for another few minutes, then tucks the covers around him and quietly gathers her files, making sure to close the door as softly as possible so as not to wake him.

* * *

 **Review?**


	4. The Waiting Game

**Thank you for all the encouragement and your messages, and I hope you keep enjoying this story as Emma and Killian get closer, and Gold gets even more shadier; it's going to be quite clear why after this chapter. Enjoy, and you can expect the next chapter on Thursday.  
**

* * *

Ruby brings a fresh sample of Killian's blood up to the laboratory a few hours later and Emma watches the technician put some of it under the microscope, practically bouncing on her feet as she waits for him to write down his initial findings before she can take a closer look.

The procedure of identifying an autoimmune disease consists of looking for antibodies and/or counting red and white cells, checking off the diseases that don't fit the pattern until you find one that does, and since there's over eighty types of autoimmune diseases, Emma has her work cut out for her even when she eliminates those she can based on Killian's symptoms or lack thereof.

The afternoon drips by without Emma noticing, and it's only when her cell phone vibrates that she remembers the dinner she was supposed to attend at her parents'.

"Dad, I'm sorry, I was busy in the lab and I completely forgot."

"I'm in front of your office," David says and Emma smiles to herself, tells him she'll be right there and makes an x next to Wegener's before leaving the laboratory.

The shortcut to her office takes her past Killian's room, and even as she contemplates popping in to see how he's doing something completely unexpected happens; Gold comes out of his room.

Emma pauses in the middle of the hallway, watching her boss close the door and limp away without noticing her, and she immediately goes into Killian's room, half-expecting to find him on the phone with his lawyer because if Gold is rude with all of them present, she can only imagine how he is one on one.

Not that such a thing happens often.

Or ever, as far as Emma knows; Gold loves an audience when he's figuring things out.

Killian is staring at the TV and it's only when she steps deeper into the room that he turns his head and looks at her, his lips tipping up at the corners at her meek greeting.

"Missed me already?" He asks and Emma can't help smiling back, glancing at the TV and returning her gaze to Killian's with her eyebrows arched high.

"Masterchef?"

"It was either that or romantic comedies. Or baseball."

"You don't like baseball?"

"Can't say that I do."

"Blasphemy," Emma chuckles and looks over his chart, reassured that his temperature is normal.

"If you say so."

"It's a beautiful game," Emma tells him and hangs his chart off the foot of his bed. "How's the pain?"

"Bearable."

"Did Dr. Gold have any more questions?"

"Just now? No, he didn't," Killian says and even though he meets her eyes square on, Emma gets the feeling that he's holding something back about Gold's unexpected visit.

"He's not known for visiting patients just to see how they are doing," she tells him and bites her lip hoping he won't jump to the wrong conclusion.

"I guess he considers me more important than your other patients," Killian says nonchalantly and only succeeds in making Emma more sure that he's hiding something.

Her phone vibrates in her pocket and she decides to try getting to the truth tomorrow, bidding Killian good night and hastening to finally meet her father.

* * *

Emma stays at work until after 10 p.m. but she's still not closer to solving the puzzle of Killian's condition, and even though she feels exhausted she finds it impossible to fall asleep once she gets home and burrows underneath her duvet.

Her mind is racing with plans for tomorrow, and she keeps thinking about seeing Gold coming out of Killian's room; it's not until she promises herself to ask him what was he doing there that she falls asleep.

She wakes when her room fills with morning light and curses when she realizes how late she is, trips on the duvet as she tries to race to the bathroom and smacks her forehead against the doorway hard enough to see stars.

Luckily, it's Saturday, so she doesn't have to swing by Regina's place, but even though she skips breakfast and drives too fast on the quiet streets, she's still half an hour late to work.

Gold is waiting for her in front of the changing room and she braces herself for impact, but to her surprise he just tells her that he needs her to fetch a patient form Oncology and put him in Jones' room for the time being.

"Why?" Emma asks his retreating back, then sighs and goes to put on her scrubs when he doesn't answer her.

The patient Gold wants transferred is Will Scarlet, whom Emma hadn't seen since they diagnosed him with colon cancer a few months ago.

"Took you long enough to find your way here," Will says when she enters his room and she makes herself smile even though her stomach drops at the sight of him.

He looks worse, not better, and she is once again reminded how much she hates the fact that cancer exists.

"I was busy."

"Aren't we all," Will chuckles and eyes the wheelchair she'd brought along for his transfer. "What's that for?"

"They need a bed here so you're going downstairs."

"I can walk, thanks very much," Will tells her and she doesn't force the issue, pushing the wheelchair ahead of her as Will shuffles slowly along the hallway, using the IV stand as a support.

He makes it into the elevator before he admits defeat and drops into the wheelchair, giving her a warning look to keep her from commenting.

The truth is, she didn't intend to.

Belle meets them in the hallway and grins widely at Will, telling him she's glad to see him again, and even though Emma could leave it to her to get Will settled, she keeps pushing him forward, determined to be the one to do it.

She tells herself it's got nothing to do with the sailor in room 72, she tells herself that she's his doctor and that she doesn't need an excuse to see him, but it's all just for show.

Something is drawing her to Killian's side, something inexplicable and intense. Something she doesn't wish to contemplate too carefully.

"Killian Jones, this is-"

"Will Scarlet. We're to be roommates," Will says and struggles out of the wheelchair so that he can offer his hand to Killian.

"Nice to meet you," Killian says, shaking Will's hand and then leaning around him to greet Emma.

"Morning, Swan."

"Morning."

"Swan?" Will gives her an amused look and sinks down on the unoccupied bed. "How come you never let me call you that?"

"Mr. Jones didn't exactly ask if he could," Emma says with a shrug and checks his IV before throwing the covers over him.

"Don't tell anybody, but I think she likes it," Killian says in a mock whisper and Emma looks between them, already sensing that they are going to get into all kinds of trouble together.

"She is standing right here," Emma says sharply and uncovers his feet, studying the pale blue staining his toes and trying to figure out if it's darker than yesterday or not.

"Whoa," Will says empathically and only then seems to notice Killian's missing hand. "That looks painful."

"You have no idea," Killian says softly, all traces of teasing gone from his voice, and Emma pulls the sheet back down, suddenly eager to get back to the lab.

"I've got to go. Try to behave, Will," Emma says, attempting to sound stern, but Will just smirks and makes a cross over his heart.

"Hope to die," he says and she presses her lips into a thin line, turning on her heel and marching out of the room.

She absolutely hates gallows humor.

"We'll page you if we need you!" Will calls after her but she ignores him, hoping it dissuades him from doing it even though she knows it won't.

She would really like to know why Gold had her bring him here, and tells herself she's just being paranoid when it occurs to her that he might have done it to stop her from getting too close to Killian.

"You are ridiculous," she says under her breath and slams the heel of her fist against the elevator call button, forcefully pushing all three of them to the back of her mind.

She's got more important things to do than dwell on what's Gold thinking.

* * *

By the time noon rolls around Emma feels both defeated and a little light-headed with hunger, so she leaves the lab and makes her way to the cafeteria, then sits in the corner putting food in her mouth without actually tasting it; she's more certain that Killian's got Buerger's with every disease she checks off her list, and it terrifies her.

Will's cancer is slowly killing him, but if she is right, Killian's condition is going to keep crippling him and then leave him to spend the rest of his life dependent on other people; she'd only known him for a few days, but she's fairly certain that won't sit well with him.

Gold calls her when she's back in the lab and she shares her meager findings with him, but he tells her to keep looking instead of getting ahead of herself and that's that.

Will starts blowing up her pager not long after and she tries to ignore him, but when she misses the red cells count for the third time she groans and goes to see what he wants.

"Killian needs something for the pain," Will says as soon as Emma opens the door to their room, holding his hands up to ward off her anger.

"I didn't put him up to this," Killian says though gritted teeth when she comes to stand next to his bed, but his eyes are pleading with her to do something to help him.

"Can you get to the TV room on your own?" Emma asks Will and he gets the message loud and clear, departing from the room in record time considering his state.

"It's like this," Emma says and sits on the edge of Killian's bed. "I'm half-way through with the tests that will help me determine how to treat you, so I'll need to take your blood again tomorrow morning. If I give you something for the pain now, I will have to wait for Monday to do the rest of the tests, and considering how quickly your condition is deteriorating, I don't feel comfortable wasting time."

"What if you do all the tests and you still don't know what to do with me?" Killian asks her and balls his hand into a fist she gently pries open, tracing the blue pattern on the backs of his fingers, shivering at how cold his skin is.

"There's always something to do."

"Not always, apparently."

"What do you mean?" Emma looks up and feels a kick in her stomach when she meets Killian's stormy gaze.

"Didn't you bring Will here because he's refusing any further treatment and therefore can't be on Oncology ward anymore?"

"What?" Emma whispers, her heart sinking in her chest because she knows what that means.

The cancer spread and Will doesn't want to suffer chemo when it's clearly not working.

"I'm sorry," Killian tells her, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand because he somehow senses that she's got a soft spot for his new roommate.

"I'll talk to him. He can't just give up," Emma says and forces herself to smile even though she feels like curling up in a ball and crying for a week.

Killian doesn't say anything to that and they just sit there quietly, still holding hands, and for the first time Emma notices that Killian's got a tattoo on his forearm, a vivid heart with a dagger ran through it and a name underneath it.

"Who's Milah?" Emma asks, hoping to get him talking so he would have something to think about other than the pain he's in.

"She was my love," he says quietly, and even though Emma already knows her plan has backfired, she prompts him to continue.

"Was?"

"It's a long story."

"I've got time."

"You do, Dr. Swan?"

"I need a break from staring at your antibodies anyway," she tells him and hopes he can't tell how genuinely curious she is to learn more about him.

"I met her four years ago in a bar downtown. She looked lonely so I chatted her up, and we spend the night walking around, talking about nothing and everything. We ended up on my ship, and watched the dawn break together… That was when she told me she was married."

Emma doesn't have to look at his face to sense tragedy approaching; she can hear it in his voice quite well.

"She came back a few days later, and we never mentioned her husband again. I kept postponing my next trip and she kept coming over, but she never spent the whole night with me. My agent was pressuring me for another book and I finally told her that I had to go, and asked her to come with me."

"Did she go?"

"She said she would, but she didn't meet me the day I was supposed to leave and I assumed she had changed her mind."

Emma looks up and finds Killian staring at his knees, his eyelashes casting spidery shadows against his pale cheeks.

"When I returned three months later, I went to the bar where we had met every night for a week before the owner took pity on me and told me that I'm wasting my time. He told me Milah killed herself."

"I'm sorry."

"She didn't kill herself. She couldn't have, no matter what happened. I know she was unhappy in her marriage, but she never told me her last name and I've spent all this time trying to find it out because I'm certain her husband had something to do with her death. She was many things, but she was never a coward... He must've found out that she was going to leave him for me."

"Is she the reason you passed out in the snow a week ago?"

"It was the anniversary of our first meeting," Killian says and Emma wishes she could feel somebody love her like this just once in her life.

"Your agent was probably mad at you for staying in Portland instead of working on your next book."

"I fired my agent. I'm not going back on the ocean until I find the bastard responsible for Milah's death", he says, then glances at his stump and shakes his head.

"I'm pretty sure you'll be able to sail once we fit you with a prosthetic," Emma tells him, sensing that there's nothing more important to him than being able to sail.

"Perhaps," he says, then leans back against his pillow and looks at her from under his eyelashes. "It's probably time for you to go back to work."

"It is. You're gonna manage without painkillers?"

"If you promise to give me something strong tomorrow morning," he says and she laughs, squeezing his shoulder before she stands up.

"I don't bargain with patients."

"Maybe you should try it once. Could be fun," he says with a wink and Emma's heart stutters in her chest.

He's too charming for his own good and he's perfectly aware of it.

"I don't think so," Emma tells him and leaves his room before that line between them gets completely obliterated.

* * *

 **Review?**


	5. What Desperation Does

**As promised, here's the new chapter; I still have 8 chapters to write, so the next update won't be before Sunday. Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoy!  
**

* * *

It's not even 7 a.m. when Emma walks back into Killian's room, eager to take his blood so that she can finally give him something for the pain.

Will is softly snoring in his bed but Killian is already awake, his eyes following her movements as she arranges everything necessary on the bedside cabinet.

"Did you manage to get any sleep?" She asks him as she ties a length of rubber around his bicep, her fingers lingering for a moment on the firm muscle before she dabs alcohol on the inside of his elbow.

"Scarlet snores," he tells her and rolls his eyes, watching as she gently inserts a needle into his vein and lets the blood flow into a clear container.

"Most people look away at this part."

"Do they? It's just blood," Killian says and Emma smiles, replacing the container with another and telling him to squeeze his fist.

Once it's done Emma tapes a cotton ball to his arm and bends his elbow, then takes a bottle of Dilaudid and injects the medicine into Killian's IV.

"Thank you, Swan," Killian says gratefully and she nods, making a note on Killian's chart before glancing at Will; she decides against waking him just to give him a piece of her mind.

Dr. Hood had probably already done his best to make Will change his decision, and Emma has no reason to think he would listen to her, but she still feels that it's her duty to try.

"Do you ever have a day off?" Killian asks and Emma shifts her attention back to him, promising herself she'll have a go at Will later today.

"Sunday, usually."

Killian lifts an eloquent eyebrow and Emma smiles, pointing at the containers with his blood.

"Most of the time work can't wait for Monday."

"Must be exhausting," he says and relaxes slightly into the pillow, carefully shifting his handless arm, then wincing and returning it to the previous position.

"Sometimes. Mostly I don't even notice," Emma tells him, remembering a time when she went three days without sleep… It was worth it because it had saved a life, and she made up for it by sleeping almost twenty-four hours straight afterward.

"You really do like your job, don't you, Swan?"

"Does that surprise you?"

"It impresses me," he tells her and Emma blushes at the compliment, then tries to play it cool.

"It's just a job."

"You save lives. It's much more than just a job," he says and instead of just gathering her stuff and getting to work, Emma sits on the edge of his bed and shrugs.

"I never thought about that before I started med school. I was interested in the science and helping people, and even if I knew that sometimes it would be a matter of life and death, I didn't really _know_ it, you know?"

"How did you end up in the diagnostics team of the most famous doctor on the East coast?"

"It's a long story," Emma says and makes a move to stand up, pausing when Killian's hand catches hers and holds it with quiet strength.

"I would very much like to hear it," he tells her, his eyes so honest when she meets his blue gaze that Emma realizes she actually wants to tell him.

There is no denying the connection between them, something unfathomable pulling them closer every time they find themselves in each other's orbit, and even though it's terribly unwise, Emma decides not to fight against what her heart wants.

"There's a winter garden on the fifth floor that nobody bothers with because the elevator only goes up to the fourth. If you're up for a little climb, I'll come get you after lunch."

"My schedule is wide open," Killian tells her with a gorgeous grin and Emma smiles, gathers his blood samples and quietly walks out of the room.

* * *

The laboratory is Emma's favorite place in the entire hospital, even more so on Sundays when there's nobody there because whoever is on call prefers hanging out at the closest Nurse's station. Today, she doesn't enjoy being here, the usually soothing job of counting and comparing frustrating her to no end because it's becoming more and more clear that the answer to Killian's condition won't be found in his blood cells.

It's a first for Emma, and it feels like a personal failure.

Mary Margaret joins her for lunch and chatters about the little antiquities shop she'd discovered yesterday afternoon, and how David had to practically force her out when they were closing.

Emma listens with half an ear and her mother finally catches on her mood, giving her a worried look but hesitating to ask her what's wrong because the two of them don't have a good track record when it comes to Emma opening up; she knows her mother means well, but she's always too pushy, ready with an advice that rarely makes sense to Emma.

"Whatever's bothering you, it will work out in the end. You'll see," Mary Margaret finally says and Emma resists the urge to tell her about all the ways Killian could get worse, and how little she or any other doctor would be able to do to help him.

"I hope so," she says instead and puts away her tray, then lets her mother hug her goodbye and goes to get Killian.

Emma gets into the ward and sees what she's pretty sure is Gold rounding the corner at the other end, but when she asks nurse Caroline if he'd been around today, the nurse gives her an incredulous look and informs her that it's Sunday.

"I guess it was somebody else."

Even as she speaks the words Emma realizes how ridiculous they sound because visitors aren't allowed on Sundays and none of the doctors she knows look anything like Gold, but she puts the mystery out of her mind and pops her head into Killian's room.

He's sitting on the edge of his bed wearing a royal blue bathrobe, looking adorably eager for her company, and Emma feels a pang of worry, a premonition she refuses to fully acknowledge.

"Ready to go?" She asks but he's already getting to his feet, eying the IV stand with a distasteful look.

"Can we leave this here?"

"It's gonna confuse the nurses."

"Come on, Swan. Let's live dangerously," he says with an infectious grin and Emma simply can't resist him; she unplugs the tube from the cannula and drapes it over Killian's bed, only then realizing how much taller than her he is when she has to tip her head back to meet his eyes.

"Please be careful with your hand," she tells him and doesn't move until he gives her a solemn nod and says "I promise".

They take the elevator up and then ascend the narrow stairway to the winter garden which is just a room with a wall of windows, a long plastic seat that's not as uncomfortable as it looks and a few potted trees that both look and are on the verge of dying.

"Charming place."

"It's quiet," Emma says, jumping to the defense of her second favorite place in the hospital.

"Do you come here often?"

"Once in a while."

Killian walks to the window and looks out, then presses his palm to the glass as if he wants to reach for what's on the other side.

"I like that you can see the ocean."

"It feels like forever since… but it has only been 11 days," Killian says and Emma sits down, watching his profile as he stares out, content to let him look to his heart's content.

He joins her on the seat a few minutes later and leans against the wall, resting his hand in his lap and tipping his head to the side to face her.

"You were going to tell me a story," he says and Emma suddenly feels incredibly self-conscious.

"I don't even know where to start."

"Are you from Portland?"

"No, I-," Emma trails off and realizes that in order to answer his original question she must tell him the story of her entire life. "I grew up in a group home."

"You were abandoned," he says, and he doesn't seem surprised by that discovery.

"It had seemed like that until last year, but no, I wasn't. I was just lost."

Killian doesn't look convinced, but he nods for her to go on.

She still remembers her young self, remembers how she had spent long nights lying in bed hoping and praying that somebody would come for her and tell her that she belongs, but no one ever came, and she ended up being the one who found her parents.

"I was a grade A student since kindergarten and all my teachers encouraged me to apply for med school, which I did. And then I met Neal."

Even saying his name makes Emma feel like she's got acid burning in her stomach, but she swallows the lump in her throat and keeps talking.

"He also wanted to be a doctor and we were madly in love within days; I was too young to realize that I didn't mean as much to him as he did to me, and I was shocked when he texted me to tell me he can't see me anymore. I never saw him after that, and a couple weeks later I realizes I was pregnant."

Emma entwines her fingers together and gathers the strength for what comes next, blinking fast to stop the tears welling in her eyes from spilling.

Killian's hand swims through her vision and his long, graceful fingers envelop hers, Emma's heart sinking a little when all the blue marring his skin comes into focus.

"You don't have to continue if it's too painful," he tells her, and she's floored by the fact that despite everything that's happening to him, he still wants to hear about her grief, and it seems rude to leave him hanging.

"I continued to study and got a scholarship to Penn State, then had a baby five days after I got the news that I was accepted," Emma says, her voice getting quieter until it disappears completely.

She's suddenly mortally afraid that Killian will think she chose education over her son, but she doesn't know how to put what really happened into words.

"You were alone in the world so you gave your baby up for adoption," Killian says and Emma turns her head to find his face close to hers, his eyes full of empathy and understanding.

"I gave him his best chance."

They are quiet for a long time and Emma feels lighter than she had in years, and now that she's over the worst part, Emma is even more eager to tell Killian the rest.

"I finished med school and did my specialization in New York, and then a year ago an eleven-year-old boy knocked on my door and told me that his name is Henry Mills and that he's my son."

"Resourceful laddie."

"You have no idea. I brought him back to Portland and stuck around for a bit, but I was still planning to go back to New York. I never did, though, and when Henry's adoptive mother introduced me to Dr. Gold and he offered me a job, I jumped on the opportunity."

"Regina Mills is your son's adoptive mother?"

"She is."

"That must be a challenge," Killian chuckles and Emma grins, surreptitiously wiping the moisture from the corner of her eye.

"It's getting easier."

"I have to admit, Swan, I didn't expect anything like this when you said it was a long story," Killian tells her and she slides her hand from under his, putting distance between them both physically and mentally.

"I never told it before. Not all of it anyway."

"Should I be flattered, then?" He asks and glances at her lips, and for a crazy moment Emma thinks he might actually try kissing her.

For a crazy moment, she wants him to.

God help her, she would let him, her profession notwithstanding.

"You're a good listener," she says and gets up, walking over to the window and giving him her back.

"I suppose I am," he murmurs and Emma stares at the pale gray sky meeting the blue of the ocean, trying to mentally redraw that line that exists between every doctor and patient, the line that he had started erasing when he had told her about Milah and that she obliterated just now when she had told him about Henry.

"I think you have Buerger's Disease."

The silence stretches.

"You think?"

Emma turns from the window and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"Your symptoms fit, only you're getting worse and you've quit smoking when you were admitted."

"What does smoking have to do with it?"

"Everything. It's a type of vasculitis with some autoimmune mechanisms, and nicotine seems to be the trigger."

"Okay, I've got Buerger's Disease. How do you cure it?" Killian asks, looking at her like he would at a savior, and Emma had never felt more inadequate.

"There is no cure for it. You're supposed to quit smoking and the symptoms should eventually lessen, but you did already and you're not better," Emma says, wondering if Gold is going to kill her or just fire her for sharing her unfounded concerns with their patient. "I'm sorry. It's just speculation at this point, but I thought you should be informed of the possibility. I still have some tests to run, other types of diseases to eliminate."

"And if it is what you think?" Killian asks and comes to his feet, his jaw tightening as he waits for her response.

"If it is Buerger's and we don't figure out why is your condition still worsening, there's a possibility you'll need more amputations," Emma says, her arm shooting out and wrapping around Killian when he sways on his feet, and for a moment she's afraid they are both going to fall, but then he braces his hand against the wall and regains his footing.

"Well then, Swan. Let's hope it turns out I've got something else because I really need my hand and feet," Killian says with a brave smile and she can physically feel herself falling just a little bit in love with him.

"I'll do everything in my power to help you keep them all," Emma tells him, fervently hoping she'll be able to keep that promise.

They make their way back to Killian's room in companionable silence without meeting anyone in the hallway, and Emma feels guilty for feeling relieved; they weren't doing anything inappropriate, but she's infinitely glad she doesn't have to explain herself to some nurse.

"There you are!" Will greets them when they slip into Killian's room and Emma welcomes his ramblings about how there's nothing on TV while she inserts Killian's IV back into the cannula and makes sure it's flowing freely. "Wait. Where were you? Is there something I should know about?"

"Shut up, Will," Emma and Killian say in unison and share a conspiratorial smile that makes him even more suspicious and therefore more amusing.

"It's incredibly rude of you to insinuate yourself between a dying man and his lady love," Will tells Killian theatrically and Emma rolls her eyes, ignoring him as she gives Killian another injection of painkillers.

"The lady can speak for herself if she finds my company unwelcome," Killian replies and winks at Emma, working hard to hide just how scared he is.

He almost manages to convince her, but his hand is trembling, and she briefly squeezes his fingers before she leaves them to daytime TV.

It's close to 4 p.m. and instead of going home Emma goes back to the lab, hoping for a miracle she doesn't objectively expect.

* * *

 **Review?**


	6. Come Closer

**Thank you to everybody who took the time to leave a review, and I hope you keep enjoying the story. Next chapter will be up on Wednesday, so until then, have some angst.  
**

* * *

Monday morning dawns rainy and cold so Emma picks up Regina and Henry, dropping her son at school before she drives herself and his adoptive mother to the hospital.

It's a tense, silent ride after Henry leaves the car and to Emma it seems that it goes on forever, but eventually she parks her VW Beetle in the usual spot and breathes a sigh of relief when she and Regina part ways in the lobby.

Ruby stops her on her way to the lab with a message from Gold; they've got a new patient and it's all hands on deck, so Emma calls the technician and asks him to finish testing Killian's blood for her even though she'd rather do it herself.

The new patient is an elderly lady with a thousand symptoms and a terrible cough, and they spend an hour with her, Emma making notes while Gold asks her numerous questions.

Whale and August try not to be obvious about how bored they are, but it's clear they feel that it's not necessary for them to be here.

The same is true for Emma, but she forces herself to focus in order to get this over with as fast as possible so that she can go back to the lab.

They are just coming out of Mrs. Morris' room when there's a code blue announced for one of Emma's patients on Immunology and she takes off down the hallway, momentarily putting all thoughts of Killian out of her head.

Time seems to speed up, and before Emma blinks it's been half an hour and she's forced to inform Ellie Wright's mother that her daughter is dead due to unforeseen complications that had caused a sudden heart arrest; it feels a little bit like the end of the world when Mrs. Wright crumples into a nearby chair and puts her face in her hands.

"I'm so sorry," Emma tells her but there is no response, only loud, heart-shattering sobs that echo in Emma's ears even when she leaves the ward.

She loves her job, but on days like this she hates it with such a fiery passion that she wants to run away and just scream.

When she finds herself outside the door of Killian's room without quite remembering how she got there Emma doesn't hesitate, just steps inside to find Will leaning out the window and taking a long drag of a cigarette while Killian is sitting in an armchair next to him watching the smoke curl up with a look of longing on his face.

"Are you out of your mind?!" Emma practically screams and they both wince, but Will doesn't even attempt to get rid of the evidence, flicking the ash out the window and meeting her gaze square on.

"Not yet, but probably soon," Will says defiantly and Emma stalks across the room, wrenches the cigarette from between his fingers and goes to flush it in the toilet.

"There is nothing in the world that feeds cancer cells better than cigarettes!"

"Nothing except chemo and radiation, anyway."

"Listen to me, Scarlet. If you want to leave this world quicker you're welcome to do whatever you want, but this is a hospital and you will not smoke inside it," Emma tells him and looks around the room in search of his stash. "Where's the pack?"

"He wasn't technically in the hospital", Killian says and Emma sees red.

"And you! Did you even listen to me yesterday?! You're supposed to avoid cigarettes like the plague and you choose to expose yourself to second-hand smoke," Emma exclaims, getting even angrier when Killian doesn't even try to defend himself.

"Get off your high horse. You and the rest of your medical team know bollocks. First you do your endless tests and then you try this medicine and that, and when all else fails you just shoot people up with liquid poison that completely destroys what few organs they still have that work, to which you just say, "oh well, it's cancer that killed him". Face it, Emma. A few cigarettes won't make a difference. A whole damn pack won't make a difference at this point," Will says and she feels the fight go out of her because she doesn't really know what to say to that.

She believes in what she does, but sometimes, it does feel like they are all stumbling in the dark, relying on luck more than expertise to help people.

"That's enough, Will," Killian says and makes his way to Emma's side, and it's not until he leads her to sit on his bed that she realizes she feels like she might faint.

"Figures you would take her side," Will huffs and starts making his slow way out of the room. "You'll sing a different tune in a few weeks, but don't go crying to me when they decide to lop off your other hand too."

The door slams closed and Emma bows her head, wishing she could just lie down and sleep until it stops hurting.

"Chin up, Swan. He's scared so he's lashing out. Try not to take it to heart," Killian says and sits down beside her, his hand settling between her shoulder blades lightly, his IV tube falling across his knees.

"I know," Emma says and presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. "I don't even know what I'm doing here."

"Did something happen?" He asks her, his voice low and soothing, his fingers gently kneading her shoulder.

She should not let him do that.

She should not even be here.

"I just lost a patient," Emma tells him, then bites her trembling lip and swallows the lump in her throat. "Her name was Ellie and she was five years old."

"Swan… I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. I am too," Emma whispers and wipes at her suddenly wet cheeks. "I should have stayed with her mother but I didn't trust myself not to fall apart."

"You can fall apart here and go back there once you feel better," Killian tells her and Emma sniffles, then takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to compose herself.

"I don't usually do this," she says and sits up straight, Killian's hand falling from her shoulder.

"Do what, love?"

"Go crying to my patients."

"Well… you must consider me more than just a patient, then," Killian says with a flirty grin and Emma rolls her eyes, turning her head and hiding her fragile smile against her shoulder.

"I should go back."

She's already half-way out of his room when realizes that she can't leave without thanking him, so she turns back and does just that.

"You're welcome, Swan. I'd say come any time, but I fervently hope nobody gives you a reason to cry anytime soon."

Emma ignores the chill running down her spine and lifts her chin, determined to get through today with her head held high.

* * *

"Emma!" Henry exclaims when he sees her leaning against her Bug outside his school, his entire face lighting up with a smile.

"Hey, kid."

"I thought Mom would pick me up today."

"I asked her if I could take you to see a movie, and she agreed," Emma explains and sways a little when Henry wraps his arms around her waist and hugs her tightly.

"You seemed sad," Henry says when she looks at him in surprise because neither of them is really prone to displays of affection, and she's once again amazed at his perceptiveness.

Emma takes Henry to see Kung Fu Panda 3, and while Henry enjoys himself, she can't quite focus on the movie, Ellie's face lingering in her mind. It's even worse when she thinks of Ellie's mother, her stomach tying itself into knots at the thought of such a loss.

Henry laughs loudly and jubilantly in his seat next to her and Emma wishes that there was a way to protect him from everything this world can do to him, but save for putting him under a glass jar, she can just hope for the best.

"Are you worried about work?" He asks her an hour later when they are sitting in her car outside Regina's house eating a bear claw each and Emma shrugs, telling him not to worry about her. "You're my mom, Emma. Of course I worry about you."

There is no way that Emma is going to talk to Henry about the death of a child younger than him, but she has to tell him something that would explain why was she so distressed today.

"Remember my birthday? When doctor Gold interrupted the party?"

"He told you that you've got a case."

"We're still working on it, and we're not even a little closer to setting the diagnosis, much less finding a cure."

"Are you doing everything you can to figure it out?"

"Of course."

"Then it will be okay. I believe in you, Emma. You will help this patient just like you helped so many before him," Henry tells her and Emma smiles, brushes his hair off his forehead and lets him finish her bear claw.

She hopes he's right.

* * *

Emma wakes up to her phone ringing shrilly in the dark, and when she glances at the alarm clock on her bedside table she feels her heartbeat pick up pace because it's close to three a.m. and something must've happened to one of her patients.

Or worse, Henry.

"Yes?"

"This is Nurse Bea. I'm sorry to wake you, Dr. Swan, but Dr. Gold isn't picking up."

"It's fine. What happened?"

"It's Mr. Jones. We've given him as much Dilaudid as we could but he's still in pain… he says it's a nine."

"Keep calling Dr. Gold. I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Emma throws on jeans and the first shirt she comes across, which turns out to be a hoodie from her med school days that's too big on her and makes her look like a teenager, but there's no time to look for something better so she shoves her feet into her old sneakers and runs all the way down to her car.

The city looks abandoned at this time of night and Emma runs all the red lights on her way to the hospital, not even bothering to stop when a cop flashes his lights at her.

He follows her to the hospital and blocks her when she parks her car, but he's easily dissuaded from writing her up when she shows him her hospital ID and tells him that there's an emergency.

"Good luck, ma'am," he says and Emma takes off toward the hospital entrance, her heart in her throat by the time she reaches the ward and doubles over next to the Nurse's station.

"Any change?"

"I was just about to go give him another injection," Nurse Bea says but Emma shakes her head, telling her that she'll take care of it. "We've put Will Scarlet on a bunk bed in room 68."

"Why?"

"He couldn't sleep because Mr. Jones was moaning so much."

Emma takes the bottle and the injection from the nurse and pauses a moment in front of Killian's room, coming inside as soon as she hears him cry out in pain.

"Swan," he whispers when she turns on the light and Emma doesn't waste any time, injecting him with the painkiller and checking his vitals; his heart is racing and he's sweating, his pupils dilated when Emma shines a light into his eyes.

"Tell me exactly what hurts."

"My feet… and my hands," he says and Emma pulls the covers off him, carefully examining first his lower extremities, then his hand, leaving his stump for the end.

"When did it start?"

"The pain woke me up around midnight," he tells her and grits his teeth as she cuts through the bandage and examines the end of his arm.

"And the painkillers didn't help?"

"Not even a little," Killian gasps and Emma wraps a fresh bandage around his stump, then leans close to him so that he doesn't have any choice but to meet her gaze.

"You used to cope with pain by staying active, and now you've spend almost two weeks lying in bed. I think it will help if we go for a walk. Do you think you can manage that?" Emma asks, her eyes holding his until he nods and starts to sit up.

She finds his clothes neatly folded in the closet and puts on his boots, tying the laces before it can really dawn on him that he needs to learn how to do that one-handed, then helps him shrug into his winter coat. He gasps often but his jaw is set, and he seems steady enough when she takes his hand and pulls him to his feet.

He doesn't take his eyes away from her face as she puts his gloves on, glad that they don't have separate fingers when she slides the left one on his stump to further protect it from the cold.

"We're going for a walk," Emma tells Nurse Bea when they emerge into the hallway and the thin woman doesn't even bat an eyelash, more than used to Gold's unorthodox techniques.

"Dr. Gold still isn't picking up."

Emma doesn't comment on it in front of Killian, just tells the nurse to keep trying, but inside she's seething with rage even though this is nothing new; he gets away with a lot because he's so very brilliant.

"If you start feeling dizzy or faint, tell me right away," Emma says and takes Killian's hand in both of hers, massaging it as they make their way out of the hospital; he's limping slightly but it's to be expected, and Emma doesn't have any other ideas anyway. Once they emerge from the lobby, the cold outside is cutting and she wishes she had remembered to take her beanie, but she's too worried about Killian to dwell on it for longer than a fleeting second.

He's gasping every few minutes but he keeps moving, and Emma moves with him, their steps echoing between the silent buildings as their make their way to the harbor.

"This doesn't bode well for me, does it?" Killian asks her some time later, and she is relieved because he's slowly relaxing, his breathing even and regular.

"It's worrying," Emma says, refusing to outright lie to him, but also not willing to say anything definite without consulting Gold.

"Don't mince words, Swan."

"I'm not. I just do not want to step on any toes," she tells him, wincing inwardly at her choice of words.

They reach the pier and Killian stops, leaning his elbow on the rail and tipping his head back to look at the moon hanging over the water.

"How's your pain now?"

"A solid two," he says and even manages a heart-stopping smile that makes Emma forget she was ever cold.

"Ready to go back?"

"In a minute," he says and Emma watches his profile as he watches the ocean, her hand still holding his.

* * *

It's well past four a.m. by the time they return to the hospital and Emma can barely keep her eyes opened as she helps Killian settle into bed and sinks down next to him, feeling like she might fall asleep where she sits any second now.

Still, her hands are steady as she injects him with Dilaudid to make sure he'll be able to get at least a couple hours of sleep.

"Thanks for coming to my rescue, Emma," he tells her and she's acutely aware of the fact he'd never called her by her first name before even though the haze of exhaustion, and it's impossible not to feel like something monumental between them has shifted.

"You're welcome, Killian," she replies, then realizes that she's simply not fit to drive. "Wake me up if you need anything."

He looks stricken as he watches her turn off the light and get into Will's unoccupied bed, but she's simply too sleepy to tell him that she does this all the time when patients need her, and that he shouldn't let it go to his head.

Something tells her he'd do just that no matter what she said, so she doesn't even attempt staying awake and trying to convince him otherwise.

* * *

 **Review?**


	7. Terrible Choices

**Thank you everybody who is reading and reviewing this story, and I hope you're going to enjoy this chapter's angst and feels. Next one will be up on Saturday. (I'm so slow this time, and believe me, I know, but this story is the most difficult I've ever written, so thank you in advance for your patience.)  
**

* * *

"Dr. Swan, it's time to wake up," a brisk female voice drifts into Emma's consciousness and she groans, pressing her face against the pillow because she wants to sleep just a little bit longer. "It's almost 7 a.m. and Dr. Gold is going to come around any minute now."

Emma sits up abruptly, looking around blearily and finding Killian looking at her with an amused smile on his face.

"You should probably go put on your scrubs," Nurse Bea says and gives Emma a pointed look as she takes the thermometer from Killian and notes his temperature on the chart before leaving the room.

"Did you sleep well?" Killian asks her and Emma frowns, running her fingers through her hair and realizing that she won't be able to untangle it without a comb, so she makes a bun and hopes nobody will notice.

"I should ask you that question."

"It was alright. I do wish the nurses wouldn't come in at the crack of dawn."

"I'm afraid it's our fault; the doctors like to have all the fresh stats when they make their morning rounds", Emma tells him and stretches her arms up over her head, then sits on the edge of the bed and slips her feet into her sneakers. Her phone is on the verge of dying but she manages to send a text to Regina to let her know that she's already at work, and that she should send Henry to school on his own today, receiving only a thumb up before he phone shuts down.

"You should probably go before your boss shows up," Killian tells her and she looks up, watching him attempt to right his hopelessly twisted pillow for a few seconds before she comes to the rescue.

"Why would I go? You are my patient too," Emma says and expertly fluffs up his pillow, shaking her head at his silliness.

Killian opens his mouth to say something, but Gold picks that moment to walk in, looking cheerful and well-rested.

"I hear you two had a busy night," he says and rubs his hands together in anticipation, Emma's hand coming to rest on Killian's shoulder in a protective motion that doesn't escape Gold's notice.

"Killian didn't respond to painkillers, so I took him for a walk, and it helped."

"We're using first names now, are we Dr. Swan?" Gold asks and it's the first time she sees a note of maliciousness in him, something dark and awfully unpleasant that even his brilliance can't compensate for.

"I insisted," Killian says firmly, but doesn't even attempt to elaborate.

"Very well, then, _Killian_ ," Gold says and leans his cane against the edge of Killian's bed before putting on a pair of gloves and pushing away the covers. "Let's see how you're doing."

Both Killian and Emma watch him work, his fingers probing Killian's flesh systematically; he starts with his hand and finishes with his left foot, shaking his head in a disapproving way.

"I was hoping it wouldn't come to this, but I'm afraid you're going to need another surgery."

Emma feels like somebody had hit her in the stomach with a sledgehammer, and it's a miracle that she manages to stay on her feet.

"No," Killian says softly, but Gold ignores him, flings his gloves into the trashcan in the corner of the room and leans on his cane again.

"I just got all your results back and now that we've excluded everything else we suspected, I can confirm that you've got Buerger's Disease."

"I don't want another surgery."

"And I don't want this cane, but alas, here we are," Gold tells Killian sharply, and Emma feels the muscles in Killian's shoulder bunch beneath her hand. "Do an ultrasound of his feet and present Booth with the results."

"Wait a bloody moment," Killian exclaims when Gold starts moving toward the door. "You promised I'd feel better soon, and now you're telling me you're gonna take my foot too?!"

"Let me do the ultrasound and then we'll see what's what," Emma tells him, trying to remember when had Gold said that; he's not big on promises, much less such unrealistic ones.

Both Killian and Gold ignore her.

"Look at your foot, Jones. Really, properly look at it; it's so blue it's almost black, and if we don't do something in the next few days you're risking losing not just your foot, but half your leg, maybe even your life."

"The way you're cutting into me, soon I won't have much of a life to live anyway," Killian says and shrugs carelessly, as if what's happening to him doesn't concern him all that much.

"Do the ultrasound," Gold tells Emma and then he's gone, leaving Killian staring at his feet and Emma staring at the door, feeling sick because she could've avoided this if she had only talked to Killian last night when they returned to his room.

"Swan?"

Emma steps away from the bed but Killian doesn't lift his head to face her, his fingers playing with the bow at the end of the bandage she had wrapped around his stump a couple of hours ago.

"Yeah?"

"Is there hope?" He asks, his voice quiet and shaky; for the first time since she met him Emma realizes that he's afraid despite being brave, and her arms are heavy with the longing to wrap around him and lend him some strength.

God knows he's going to need it.

"There's always hope," Emma tells him firmly and cups his cheeks in her hands, his scruff whispering against her skin, his eyes bluer than the sky when they meet hers. "I will find a way to make you better."

Killian looks at her for a long moment, his gaze open and trusting, and he nods, tipping his head and resting his cheek in her palm.

The door opens and Emma feels like waking from a dream, her hands leaving Killian's face slowly; she doesn't care that Will had seen them like this, and considering everything that Killian is facing, she's completely unafraid of consequences she might have to deal with if Will blabbers about her unprofessional behavior.

"Morning, lovebirds," he says and pauses half-way to his bed when Killian barely acknowledges his presence. "Bad news?"

"You could say that," Killian tells him, making an almost physical effort to stop moping and shifting on the bed in search of a more comfortable position.

"I'll come get you when the ultrasound is ready," Emma says and leaves, walks out of the ward and ducks into the first available bathroom where she locks herself into a stall and falls apart.

* * *

The Immunology ward seems too quiet without Ellie, and it's not just Emma and the nurses who feel it; the rest of the patients are all subdued, answering Emma's questions haltingly, and a few of them even ask her if she thinks they are going to die.

"You're not gonna die. I promise you," Emma says over and over again, and even though she's 99% confident that they are going to be fine eventually, she still feels a constant chill at the base of her spine because she had thought the same about Ellie.

Her funeral is tomorrow, and even though Ellie's mother expressed a wish for her favorite doctor to be there, Emma isn't sure she should go.

"Are you okay, darling? You look on the verge of tears," Mr. Blake says, for once not having anything to complain about.

"I'm fine," Emma assures her and fakes a smile, checks her blood pressure and moves on to another patient.

It's almost time to go get Killian, and she's dreading that exam the way she hadn't dreaded anything since med school finals.

She had told him that there's always hope, but she fears that there is none for him to keep his foot.

They are quiet as Emma leads the way to the exam room 2, and she can't help noticing that his limp is worse today, so she stops and asks him if he wants her to fetch him a wheelchair.

"No, thank you," he says in a tone of voice that lets her know he'd rather crawl than take a ride in one before it's unavoidable.

And so the inevitable is prolonged by a few more minutes, and Emma doesn't rush even when they get to the exam room, taking the gel out of the drawer and holding the tube between her hands until it warms before applying it to Killian's foot.

"What are you supposed to look for?" He asks her when the image comes up on the monitor and Emma takes the time to explain the cardiovascular system to him in detail, tying that with the effects of Buerger's and pointing the results out on the screen.

"There's barely any blood flow in your foot, Killian. I'm sorry."

"Swan, please. Can't you do something? Are you sure there's no cure? If it's really expensive I'll get the money, just please, don't-," he voice breaks and Emma sets down the transducer, ignores everything she'd ever learned about relating to patients and wraps her arms tightly around Killian's shoulders.

"Shhh, it'll be okay," she murmurs and cradles the back of his head when he presses his forehead against her collarbone. "Everything will be alright."

"Please, please," he murmurs, and she's pretty sure he's not talking to her anymore, pleading with God instead.

She doesn't tell him that in her experience, God rarely listens when you need him to the most.

* * *

Emma doesn't get to her office until it's almost 3 p.m., and when she enters she finds August sprawled behind his desk with files opened all over it.

"Don't tell me you're doing paperwork," she says and starts rummaging through her drawers in search of something to eat; her stomach was a void when it was time for lunch but now she's starting to feel faint because she hadn't had breakfast either.

"What's eating you?"

"Nothing."

"Sure. Gold said you were upset because that Jones guy needs another surgery."

"You should be more worried about the fact that you're gonna perform the second amputation in less than a week on the same person and it doesn't upset you at all," Emma says testily and slams another drawer shut.

"Why would it upset me?"

"I rest my case."

"We're doctors, Emma. We do what needs to be done whether we like it or not," August tells her and she huffs, then starts jiggling the last drawer; it's stuck on something and she really hopes it's at least a pop tart.

"Keep telling yourself that."

"I think you like this guy, and that's why you're so bent out of shape over what's gonna happen to him," August says and Emma gives him a death glare before going back to her hunt. "I'm serious. You always get attached to patients, but this time is even worse than usual."

"Thanks for your input, Dr. Phil. Damn it."

There is nothing resembling food in the bottom drawer.

"What are you even looking for?"

"Something to eat. Anything, really."

August reaches into the drawer of his desk that he keeps perpetually opened and that Emma slams her knee into almost every time she has to walk around it and throws a pop tart in her direction.

She catches it deftly and tears the package opened, then sits on the edge of his desk and takes a tentative bite.

"Look. He's gonna lose the foot and there's no doubt about that, but I can promise you that he's gonna walk again as soon as you and Gold figure out how is he still getting worse even though he doesn't smoke anymore."

"That's easier said than done," Emma says softly and takes another bite of the pop tart, then hands him back the rest.

He stuffs the whole thing in his mouth and crosses his eyes, keeping them like that until she smiles.

* * *

Instead of going home when her shift ends, Emma goes to see Killian. She doesn't meet anybody on the way and she realizes she wouldn't care even if she did, and her heart sinks into her heels when she finds Will there alone.

"Where's Killian?"

"What do I look like, his keeper?"

"Thanks for nothing," Emma says, turns to go, then changes her mind and faces him again. "You know, I never pegged you as stupid."

"And here we go. I know you are dying to give me a pep talk disguised in insults and peppered with horror stories of what will happen to me if I don't go back to chemo, but I'm telling you right now; I heard it all and I've seen it all already."

"Will-"

"I've lived the horror, Emma, and I just want some peace."

"Even if it brings your death?"

"Don't you mean brings my death quicker? Let's not kid ourselves; I'm a goner anyway you look at it."

Emma opens her mouth to argue, then closes it because they both know he's right.

He is dying, and it's only a question of when.

"Jones said something about looking at the ocean one last time," Will tells her and Emma bites her lip, finally realizing that there's nothing she can say to change his mind.

"I'm sorry we can't help you."

"I know you are. Go give him a pep talk. He'll listen to you."

Emma nods and makes her way to the fifth floor, making sure to march up the stairs so as not to startle Killian.

"For somebody so slender, you're not really quiet," he says when she steps into the winter garden and she chuckles, coming to stand beside him and looking out the window to see the setting sun painting the horizon orange.

"Oh that's beautiful."

"Indeed it is," Killian agrees, but when she turns her head she finds him looking at her.

It's the worst kind of line, but for him, it works.

"You are irresistible when you blush, Swan."

"Only when I blush?" She asks boldly, elation singing through her because despite everything, being with him makes her feel more alive than she had felt in a long time.

"I have never been more afraid in my entire life, Swan, and yet I would rather be here with you than anywhere else," Killian says and cups her cheek in his hand, mesmerizing her with his gentleness and the affection in his eyes, making it impossible for her to think, much less move away.

He glances at her lips and her fingers grasp the material of his bathrobe, her heart tripping in her chest, then starting to beat double time.

"May I kiss you, Emma? Just this once-"

Emma stands on tiptoes and smashes her lips against Killian's, the very ground shifting beneath her feet when he wraps his handless arm around her waist and kisses her back, their mouths moving in tandem to allow their tongues to meet and tangle, their noses pressing together for a moment before they tilt their heads to the side and deepen the kiss even more, his fingers sliding into her hair and pulling gently, making her melt against him.

It is a while before they come up for air and Emma sways a little, almost afraid to open her eyes because she's worried that this kiss wasn't as life-changing for him as it was for her.

And then she does, and finds him looking at her with such awe that she feels foolish for worrying.

"Just for the record, this wasn't a one-time thing," she says and then kisses him again.

* * *

 **Review?**


	8. Irreversible

**Thank you so much for all the reviews for the last chapter, and I hope you'll forgive me for what comes next. You can expect the new chapter on Tuesday, and for now, enjoy the angst.  
**

* * *

Emma spends the night rolling around in her bed, alternating between reliving last afternoon and struggling with dread over what's going to happen tomorrow. She's up before the alarm goes off and she's at Regina's house fifteen minutes before her usual time, but Henry is running late and although she gets him to school on time, she misses her usual bus.

Killian's surgery is scheduled for 8:30 a.m. and she had promised him she'd be there, so she calls a cab and hopes for the best.

"You just missed him," Will supplies helpfully when Emma finally makes it to their room and she gives immediately turns on her heel, running off in the direction of the O.R.

It's 8:36 a.m. by the time she's done scrubbing her hands, and she takes a deep breath before going in, hoping Killian is still awake.

"Morning, Emma," August says and nods toward Killian. "We're about to begin."

"Sorry I'm late," she says and comes closer so that Killian can see her.

"You're here now," he says softly and her heart turns over in her chest because he looks so vulnerable lying there, but at the same time so stoic too. "Will you stay?"

Emma glances at August who just shrugs as if it makes no difference to him, so she tells Killian she will and caresses his cheek with the backs of her fingers.

He smiles and the corners of his eyes crinkle, and Emma would give almost anything to spare him more pain, but this is something that needs to be done and so she steps back to give the anesthesiologist room to work.

"Can you count back from twenty for me, Mr. Jones?" He asks and Killian obeys, slurring his words more and more the closer he gets to one until he stops at four, his eyes closed and his breathing even.

"You sure you wanna stay for this?" August asks as he presses his fingers to Killian's foot, then ankle, and finally almost mid-calf in search of a pulse.

"I will stay," Emma says firmly and spends the next few hours watching August take off not just Killian's foot, but half his calf too.

Afterwards, Emma is shaking so badly she's afraid everybody can see it, and she's the first one out of the O.R., ignoring August when he calls her name and going straight to the changing room. She's not sure when had she made the decision to go to Ellie's funeral, but she's on the way to the cemetery before she can think it though and change her mind.

Killian is going to sleep for at least a few hours and it's either the funeral or sitting next to his hospital bed and staring at the empty space on the mattress where his foot used to be.

"Dr. Swan, you came," Ellie's mother greets her with tear-filled eyes and warm hands reaching for hers, and Emma manages a smile and a nod, her throat feeling like the Sahara as she tells her how sorry she is.

"What is she doing here?"

Ellie's father looks like a thundercloud, staring Emma down and making her feel small and so very guilty.

"Leave her be, John. She was good to Ellie," Mrs. Wright's voice breaks on her daughter's name and Mr. Wright stalks off with one last dirty look in Emma's direction. "I'm so sorry my husband was so rude."

"Don't worry about it," Emma tells her and squeezes her hands, reassuring her that she's fine because she's the last person Ellie's mother should worry about.

Emma had never before understood what people meant when they said that the funeral was good because a lot of people turned up, or bad because there was just a handful of mourners, but she does now; Ellie's funeral is the saddest Emma had ever been to, the only people standing around Ellie's white casket being her parents, two pairs of their friends, Emma and the priest.

When they start lowering the casket into the ground and Mr. Wright falls on his knees, Emma closes her eyes and lets the tears fall, silently praying for Ellie's soul and hoping that just this once, God will hear her.

* * *

Killian is still asleep when she returns to the hospital but it's no wonder because this time they are giving him all the painkillers he needs.

Will seems to be under the weather, lying on his side with his back to her and Killian, so Emma sinks into a chair next to Killian's bed and takes his hand in hers, infinitely careful not to mess with his IV line.

"Is this what you do now, Dr. Swan? Hold patients' hands and visit their funerals?" Gold asks from the doorway and Emma jumps in her seat, then steels herself and releases Killian's hand before turning around to look at her boss.

"I was checking his condition."

"Sure you were."

"And last I checked, there's no rule against going to a patients' funeral."

"I had expected bright things from you, Dr. Swan, but it seems to me you're not any better than your male colleagues. Pity," Gold says and lifts the covers from Killian's legs, and if Emma wasn't dreading looking down she would've missed the quick grin that pulls at his lips, a mockery of a smile that leaves her feeling cold inside.

For some twisted, unfathomable reason Gold finds the sight of Killian's missing foot amusing, and alarm bells start going off inside her so loudly she can barely hear herself think.

"Go finish your paperwork. I'm sure there's plenty of it left, considering how much time you've been spending here lately."

"I did all of it already," Emma lies through her teeth and meets Gold's gaze square on, deciding to trust her instinct; it tells her that for some reason, Gold wants her gone, and she will not give him the satisfaction.

"And your other patients? You must have some left."

"I did my rounds half an hour ago," Emma tells him and he gives her a long, assessing look before finally leaving the room.

"What a pompous ass," Will supplies from his bed and Emma can't help but smile. "Killian must be really influential."

"What makes you think that?"

"Your boss visits him at least once a day, and back when he was treating ne I didn't even meet him until he waltzed in here and told me I had cancer. Bloody wanker."

"Gold comes here every day?!" Emma asks incredulously but Will doesn't get a chance to answer because Killian is starting to wake up, so Emma focuses her full attention on him.

"Emma," he whispers as his eyelashes flutter, his lids still too heavy to lift all the way up.

"I'm here, Killian. You can sleep a little while longer."

"I don't want to," Killian says and she attempts to smooth out the deep line between his brows with her fingers. "I need to see."

His eyes open and even though they are still hazy with drugs and pain, they lock on hers, his expression softening as they roam over her face.

"You stayed with me."

"Did you doubt I would?" She asks him, feeling everything inside her going mellow, her affection for him overwhelming but surprisingly enough, not even a little bit scary.

"You are a busy woman."

"I promised you I wouldn't leave, so I didn't."

"I'm going to go watch TV before you two make me sick," Will says but Emma is barely aware of him shuffling out of the room because Killian is pushing away the covers, his face going chalk white when he sees what's underneath.

"The infection went farther than we expected," Emma says, struggling to keep her voice even for his sake. "August promised me that it won't affect your mobility once you get outfitted with a prosthetic."

"Did he now?" Killian says, and he sounds like he's so far away, pain and hardship separating him from her even though they are just inches apart. "I suppose a pound of flesh makes no difference to either of you."

"It's not like that. If there was a way for us not to do this surgery at all, believe me, I would've found it, but-"

"But there's nothing you could've done," Killian finishes for her and shifts his eyes from his freshly bandaged leg stump to her face. "You know, I think I'm beginning to understand what Scarlet was talking about."

Emma feels like he's slapped her, pulling back a little and letting him slide his hand from hers.

"I'm sure you've got work to do," he says curtly and turns his head away, dismissing her so abruptly it leaves her reeling.

"Killian," she tries to talk to him, but when she lies her hand on his shoulder and he shakes it off, she realizes that she's going to have to give him time to process what has happened.

Her fingertips still remember the silky feel of his hair, and her chin is still buzzing with the rush of his beard, but at the moment he can't really look at her and some part of her gets it.

"I'll come back later," she says and it's a relief when he doesn't tell her not to.

* * *

Emma rarely goes to Obstetric ward but paperwork is the last thing she has concentration for today, so she goes to visit Elsa, whom she finds feeding a bottle of formula to a tiny baby in a blue hat.

"Emma! Is everything alright?" Elsa asks and hands Emma the baby before she can even open her mouth to respond. "We're a little short-staffed. Feed baby Stevens while I get his brother."

It's impossible to stay tensed when you're holding an adorable baby with scrunched up nose and tiny rosebud mouth, and Emma relaxes, telling Elsa everything that's happened since they last saw each other.

"You kissed a patient?!"

"Shhh, not so loud."

"Babies aren't gonna tell," Elsa chuckles and gives Emma a long look that makes her squirm. "You've never done something like this before."

"I never had a patient quite like this before."

"He must be really special to make you break that rule."

"I should've stopped him. No matter how much I wanted that kiss too, I should've stopped him."

"Don't tell me you regret it."

"I don't, but it complicates things," Emma says and sets the bottle down, then holds the baby against her chest and gently rubs his back to make him burp. "I can't let what I might feel for him cloud my judgment when it comes to his treatment."

"And from what I've heard, you're not letting it happen."

"Yeah, and now he's mad at me."

"The man lost a hand last week and now a foot too. Give him time."

"I sent a therapist to talk to him."

"That's not what I meant," Elsa says softly and smiles at the baby in her arms. "He's entitled to some anger, but if you like him as much as I think you do, you're going to be there for him even when he tries pushing you away."

Baby Stevens burps and Emma presses her nose against his warm head, inhaling his scent and feeling ready to face just about anything.

* * *

Except, as it turns out, Gold pressing Belle against the back of the storage room, his tongue shoved down her throat.

Emma went in to get medicine and came out feeling oddly disturbed even though Belle was definitely enjoying it, and it's not the first time she came upon a pair of medicine personnel doing inappropriate things in there.

She tries to rationalize it, telling herself that she finds it so weird because it's Gold; she'd heard that he was married but his wife died, and even then she found it hard to view him as anything even remotely close to romantic.

Belle obviously disagrees.

Now that wasting some time in the storage room is out of the question, Emma can either go home or go see how Killian is doing, so she chooses the latter.

"Can I come in?" She asks from the door of his room, prepared to leave if he tells her to, but hoping he'll want her to stay.

"If you promise me that I won't have to talk to that therapist woman again," he says and Emma raises her eyebrows, remaining standing in the doorway.

"I don't like being blackmailed."

"Please, Swan. She asked me how I felt at least ten times and she didn't seem to like any of my answers."

"It's better to talk about traumatic experiences than keep the feelings bottled in," Emma says and goes to look over his chart, then puts it down without really noticing anything.

"If I have to talk to somebody, I'd rather talk to you," he tells her and her stomach does a flip, his blue, blue eyes meeting hers and jumbling her thoughts.

"Talk to me, then," she says and sits down in the chair next to his bed, keeping some distance between them out of pure self-preservation.

"I can't stop thinking about the ocean," he tells her, his voice dreamy even though his gaze doesn't waver from hers. "About the sky stretching out above me and a million stars showing me the way. There are so many, Swan, once you get away from the continent, and they are so bright on clear nights you can read by their light."

"That must be beautiful."

"It is beautiful. And I am afraid I am never going to see it again."

"You will", she says firmly, but he shakes his head, his lips tugging up into a melancholy smile.

"You don't know that, Swan. You don't know what will happen to me tomorrow, much less next week or next month."

"I still believe that you will see your stars again," Emma tells him, her hand coming to rest on his forearm as if her touch can infuse him with conviction. "Things will get better."

"I hope you're right," he says after a long pause, and gives her a brave smile that breaks her heart because there are no guarantees no matter how much she wishes there were.

There's nothing she wants more right now than for him to recover, but his case is complicated and confusing and she shouldn't be making him any promises.

"What else do you miss about the ocean?"

"It's quiet out there, and yet it is not. There's always the sound of the waves hitting the hull and the wind in the rigging, and when there's a storm there's so much sound you think you might go deaf with it."

"That sounds scary."

"It is, but at the same time it's not. It makes you feel alive."

"I'll take your word for it… I've never been sailing," Emma admits and watches his face light up with a slow smile.

"Someday when I get out of here, will you let me take you?" He asks her, eager and enthusiastic once more, and Emma finds it impossible to tell him no.

She loves the ocean but she'd always been afraid of losing sight of the shore; this time she won't let it stop her from getting on a ship with him and sailing away.

"I would love to go with you," she tells him and hopes that his condition will improve enough for him to be able to sail again.

Hopes that his disease won't take too much from him for it to be possible.

* * *

 **Review?**


	9. Unexpected Revelations

**I am sorry for the last chapter, and I promise this one is fluffier and less angsty. Thank you to those of you who are still sticking with this story and continue to encourage me in your reviews, and enjoy; next chapter will be up on Friday.  
**

* * *

"Mom says that today I can hang out with you after school," Henry tells Emma on their usual morning walk, startling her out of her sleepiness and leaving her gaping at him.

"You mean at work?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you sure you understood Regina correctly? You know she doesn't like you to be around sick people," Emma says carefully, wondering why Regina didn't just ask Mary Margaret to babysit her grandson as she usually does.

"Mom has an important meeting and grandpa and grandma are going to an art gallery opening," Henry explains and Emma grins, happy that things turned out like that; she and Henry hadn't spent time together since she took him to see Kung Fu Panda 3, and that feels like it was ages ago even though it was just last week.

"We can look at stuff under the microscope if you'd like."

"Awesome! I can't wait," Henry exclaims and gives her and unexpected hug when they reach his school before running off to join his classmates.

Emma watches him go until he disappears from view, then catches the bus to the hospital and changes quickly, making a ponytail as she walks to Killian's room. Ruby offers her coffee and she's too weak to resist, so she leans against the counter at the Nurses' Station and sips the hot brew, gazing longingly in the direction of Killian's room.

"Can you honestly say you've ever seen Gold so happy?" Ruby asks when Gold unexpectedly exits room 72, making his way down the hallway away from them; and Emma has to admit that there's a certain spring in his limp she doesn't recall ever seeing before this case with Killian.

"I've seen it," Nurse Bea supplies from behind her throne in front of the computer. "A couple of weeks after his wife died. Talk about inappropriate."

"How did she die?" Emma asks and Ruby nods in support of Emma's question, leaning forward in anticipation.

"Pill overdose."

"You're kidding."

"That first week was Hell for those unfortunate enough to work with Dr. Gold, but the day after the funeral he was back to his charming, obnoxious self, only happier. It was creepy," Bea says with a shudder, then announces that she's got work to do and leaves the desk.

"Let's see what she looked like," Ruby says and takes Bea's vacated seat, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she Googles Gold M.D. plus wife.

"Any results?"

"Just one. From some gala six years ago," Ruby says and Emma comes around the desk and looks over Ruby's shoulder, studying the picture of a slightly younger Gold and a beautiful, tall brunette with piercing blue eyes that must've been his wife.

"I wonder what drove her to suicide."

"She was married to Gold. What more do you need?" Ruby says with a dark chuckle and closes the window.

Emma isn't entirely satisfied with that answer but she lets it go and thanks Ruby for the coffee, then makes her way to Killian's room.

"Good morning," she says brightly and comes to stand next to his bed, laying her hand on his shoulder because Bea is changing his bandages and his eyes are closed. "Are you in pain?"

"No more than usual," he says and opens his eyes to look at her, a small smile pulling at his pretty mouth. "You worry too much, Swan."

"And you don't worry enough. I can smell cigarette smoke," she says and shoots a glare in the direction of Will's bed.

"I went on the balcony, I swear!" Will exclaims and holds his hands up in defense.

"That supposed to make it better?" Emma asks him sharply and he rolls his eyes, plugs earphones into his ears and turns his back on them all.

"Such a mature young man," Bea says flatly and Killian chuckles, then winces as she tugs the last of the bandage off his stump.

Emma makes a sympathetic face and squeezes his shoulder, then goes to check on the stitches, nodding to Bea to apply a fresh bandage when she's satisfied that everything is healing nicely.

Killian keeps his head turned away and Emma goes back to his side, deciding to ask him about Gold's visits just to distract him from what Bea is doing.

"My boss is very diligent with you."

"What do you mean?"

"He visits you every day."

"You visit me every day too," Killian points out with a cocky smile that Emma wishes she could take a picture of so that she can print it and paste it all over her office. "Sometimes even more than once."

"True. But it's not really his thing."

"He just wants to make sure I get the best care possible," Killian says as if reciting from the back of some pamphlet and Emma would keep questioning him if there wasn't for the sound of her beeper going off.

"Seems like we've got a new case," she announces and smiles apologetically at Killian, her fingertips skimming over his forearm, their eyes meeting and holding because Bea is completely oblivious to them, focused as she is on her task.

They haven't kissed since the night before his surgery and even as Emma wonders if he wishes they could do it again she catches him looking at her mouth, his tongue tracing his bottom lip just long enough to make her wish Bea and Will would leave them alone for just a few minutes.

Emma's beeper goes off again and both her and Killian start, then share a conspiratorial smile that makes Emma feel warm and light inside.

"I should go."

"See you later, then, Swan."

"I'll bring someone to meet you later," she tells him and takes off toward the conference room, wondering if she should've made such a promise without asking Henry first; he might not feel like going around meeting her patients.

It's the first time she wants to introduce him to one, and the significance of that haunts her for the rest of the day.

* * *

Emma picks up Henry in Regina's office, where she stands aside and waits until Regina tells Henry all the things he's not supposed to do while she's gone, every rule punctuated with a sharp look in Emma's direction.

Going into patients' rooms is one of the rules but Emma isn't worried because what Regina never finds out won't be able to come back and bite Emma in the ass.

"Make sure he finishes his homework," Regina says instead of a goodbye and then she's gone, leaving Henry and Emma giggling in her wake.

"I don't have any homework," Henry says and shows Emma all his school notebooks. "I had Math homework for tomorrow but I finished it over lunch."

"You are one smart kid," Emma says and leads Henry to the laboratory where she sets him up behind one microscope while she uses the other to do a few tests Gold had ordered for the new patient.

"This is the best!" Henry keeps saying every five minutes and Emma grins into her cultures.

It feels so good to be able to make her son happy, to watch him discover the world and thrive; it's the reason she had given him up, and even though it was the hardest thing she'd ever had to do, she's now certain that she had made the right choice.

"Hey kid, would you like to meet Mr. Jones?" She asks him when she's done with testing and his eyes go wide with excitement.

"The one who wrote the travelogues?"

"The very one."

"How come he's still in the hospital? It's been weeks since my birthday," Henry asks and Emma feels a stab of doubt, for the first time worrying about the way Henry is going to react to Killian's missing limbs.

"His case is a difficult one… We're still not entirely sure what's wrong," Emma says slowly, fishing for words that she doesn't really want to say. "His hand and foot got infected, and August had to amputate them… do you know what that means?"

"I'm twelve, Emma. Of course I know," Henry says, then bites his lip and asks her if they gave Mr. Jones a lot of painkillers after the surgery.

"As many as we could," Emma tells him, not feeling even a little bit guilty for lying to him because he's too young to know that sometimes, you have to get through pain without anything to relieve it.

"Do you think he'll mind talking to me about some of his travels?"

"Why don't we go and ask him?" Emma suggests and waits in the doorway until Henry retrieves his backpack, then leads him down to Killian's room.

"See? I am removing myself and my offending smokes to the balcony," Will says as they pass him by and Emma sighs, still wishing there was a way to make him change his mind, but at the same time acknowledging that he's a lost cause.

"Thank you," she says and pokes her head into Killian's room. "May we come in?"

"Always," Killian murmurs and looks at her from under those ridiculously long eyelashes of his, momentarily rooting her to her spot until Henry nudges her from behind and she precedes him into the room.

"Killian, this is my son, Henry. Henry, this is Mr. Jones."

"Nice to meet you, Henry. And please, call me Killian."

Henry shakes Killian's offered hand gingerly, his free hand sneaking into Emma's; it's such a rare occasion that for a moment Emma feels uncertain, not really sure what to do now.

"So, Henry. Do you like to travel?" Killian asks and effectively breaks the ice, Henry's apprehension melting at the prospect of learning new things.

"I haven't really been anywhere outside Portland", Henry tells him, blushing and looking down at his feet.

"And where would you like to go if you could?"

"Australia! Did you know that there are over thirty deadly kinds of animals living there?" Henry asks him, bouncing on his toes and releasing Emma's hand as soon as she sits down on the edge of Killian's bed.

"Yes, I did know that," Killian says with an amused, affectionate grin and Emma feels her heart flutter because she doesn't think he'd ever been more attractive; it's completely unfair that he could be lying in this hospital bed wearing a plain white T-shirt, his hair hopelessly mussed and sporting blue shadows beneath his eyes, and still look so good.

But then again, maybe she's subjective.

"Have you ever been there?"

"I have," he says wistfully, and she realizes she's completely subjective, and also completely head over ears in love with him.

"Damn," she says under her breath and both Henry and Killian look at her in surprise. "Sorry. I just remembered I forgot to do something."

"I can stay here with Killian if you have to go, can't I?" Henry asks her eagerly and she shrugs, stalling for time because she doesn't actually have anything to do.

"Henry can stay if he promises not to wander off… I can't exactly chase after you, lad," Killian says and Emma's stomach sinks at the tiny catch in his voice.

"I won't go anywhere, I promise," Henry says, oblivious to Killian's pain.

"I'll be back in ten minutes tops," Emma says and kisses the top of Henry's head, gives Killian a grateful smile and goes out into the hallway where she immediately gets looped into taking a skin graft from the new patient for Gold, so it's close to forty-five minutes later when she comes back to get Henry.

She's worried because Regina's meeting should be ending any second now and there's going to be Hell to pay if she finds her son in a patients' room, even worse if Emma isn't even there because she had left their son with said patient.

"And then the monkey finally gave back my bag and went back on his tree," Killian says and Emma can't believe her eyes because Regina is sitting on Will's bed next to Henry, both of them laughing so hard they are soon wiping tears from the corners of their eyes.

"That was some story, Mr. Jones. I'm not entirely sure it's true, but it was entertaining," Regina says when she finally manages to catch her breath and stands up, telling Henry they need to go so that Killian can have dinner.

"Can I visit Killian tomorrow?"

"Maybe not tomorrow, but in a few days, if he agrees."

"I've got nowhere else to be," Killian says and winks at Henry who beams first at him, then at Emma, who's still standing motionless in the doorway, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"Gather your books while I have a word with Dr. Swan," Regina says and Emma follows her silently into the hallway, prepared to get an earful. "Killian told me you had to go assist and you decided to leave Henry with him instead of the nurses. Is that true?"

"Dr. Gold wanted me to take a skin graft," Emma says quickly, going with what Killian had told Regina and hoping it works.

"Henry had a great time, so no harm done. I will find some other arrangement next time, though. It's not fair to you to have to work and babysit our son at the same time," Regina says and Emma nods mutely, accepting a fierce hug from Henry and watching him until the elevator door closes behind them.

"Everything okay?" Killian asks when she returns to his room and she doesn't talk, just crosses the distance between the door and his bed, leans down, cups his cheeks in her hands and presses her lips against his. "What did I do to deserve that?"

"You know very well what you did," Emma says, her forehead still resting against his, their breath mingling and her heart hammering in her chest echoing his.

"Dr. Mills is scary, but I'd lie to her face again for another kiss like this," Killian says and Emma chuckles, then kisses him again, her tongue sliding into his mouth and tracing the straight line of his teeth, her blood singing through her veins making her feel light-headed.

"You don't have to slay my dragons just to get a kiss," Emma tells him softly and pulls back to look at him, sighing when his fingers slide into her ponytail and twirl the strands around.

"I know, but it feels good to know that I'm still useful for some things."

"You are very useful for a lot of things," Emma says firmly and traces her fingers along the lines on Killian's forehead, wishing she could wipe them away forever. "Do you need something for the pain before I go?"

"I won't fight you if you give me something," he answers evenly and Emma wonders how long had he been suffering in silence just so he wouldn't upset her son, feeling glad for it and horrified at the same time.

Emma takes the bottle she'd started to carry around from her pocket and injects the contents into Killian's IV just as Belle appears with dinner, followed closely by Will.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she says, already regretting the fact that she won't be able to kiss Killian goodbye unless she wants half the hospital to know about it by morning rounds; what scares her is that the idea of it doesn't seem as horrible as it would have been just a month ago.

"I'll be here," Killian says and Will salutes her with his fork, grinning when she rolls her eyes before she turns around and walks out, her lips still burning with Killian's kiss, every molecule in her body already mourning their temporary separation.

Somehow, Killian had gotten under her skin in a few short weeks and she doesn't feel the least bit eager to get him out.

* * *

 **Review?**


	10. Terrible Conclusions

**Thank you again for going on this journey with me, and I hope you enjoy the new chapter; I know you're all worried about Killian, but he's going to be alright in the end. New chapter will be up on Monday, and until then, have some fluff mixed with a little bit of angst.  
**

* * *

Emma attends dinner at her parents' place and she barely finishes her soup before David brings up Killian.

"So, Henry tells me you've got a boyfriend."

A piece of meat goes down the wrong way and Mary Margaret gently hits Emma on the back, handing her a glass of water and glaring at David across the table.

"I don't have a boyfriend," Emma tells them as soon as she stops coughing, sipping her water and wiping the tears from the corners of her eyes.

"That's not what Henry says."

"Henry is twelve."

"He's also really bright."

"Dad, come on. Do we have to talk about it now?"

"Aha! So there is something to talk about," David says and shoots his wife an I-told-you-so look.

"David," Mary Margaret says warningly and lays her hand on Emma's shoulder. "Just ignore him."

"I was just saying," David mumbles at his plate and manages to keep quiet until the dishes are cleared away and the dessert is served.

"What did Henry tell you guys?"

"He said that there's a patient who's in love with you and you're in love with him too and sometimes the three of you spend time together in his hospital room," David says and Emma takes her time with the slice of cheesecake in front of her.

"I keep telling David that Henry must be mistaken. Dating patients is unethical and you'd never do it," Mary Margaret says and Emma sighs, then licks her spoon and meets her father's gaze.

"Killian and I… It's complicated. We're not dating but there is something between us… I really hope Henry didn't tell Regina what he told you."

"I don't think he did. He seems to think it's a big secret and I sort of tricked him into telling me because he wouldn't shut up about Killian and his travels and I just wanted to know who the guy is," David says and Emma detects a faint note of disapproval in her father's voice.

"That's the patient who came in during your birthday party?" Mary Margaret asks with a frown and Emma nods. "But it's been over a month since then."

"Tell me about it."

"What's wrong with him?" David asks and Emma bites her lip, really wishing she didn't have to be having this conversation; growing up without parents wasn't a picnic, but she sure wouldn't miss this part.

"We're not sure. He's got severe Ischemia so we had to amputate his hand and leg, but-"

"Whoa, back up a bit. He's a double amputee?" Mary Margaret asks incredulously and Emma lifts her chin and sits up straight in her chair, meeting her mother's gaze square on.

"Unfortunately, yes."

Emma's parents exchange a look and then her father changes the subject, asking about her Christmas plans.

"December only just begun," she answers, thinking how much she'd prefer it if it were already over; she longs for the New Year, for new beginnings and a resolution of Killian's condition that isn't likely to happen.

"Are you going to the Gala next Friday?" Mary Margaret asks and Emma winces because she'd been invited and she had managed to completely forget about it.

"I need to buy a dress."

"Let me buy it for you. It could be your Christmas present," Mary Margaret offers and Emma doesn't have the heart to tell her no.

"Okay."

"Wonderful. Tomorrow after work? I'm volunteering until 6 p.m."

"I'll meet you in the lobby," Emma says and puts the last forkful of the cheesecake in her mouth, closing her eyes to better enjoy the taste.

* * *

"Henry thinks we're dating," Emma tells Killian on a snowy afternoon while they watch soccer. Will is elsewhere and Emma is reclining on the bed next to Killian, sharing his pillow and pretending she cares about the game on TV when she's much more aware of every inch of their skin that is pressed together.

"What did he tell you?"

"He didn't tell me. He told my Dad."

"And it's bothering you?" He asks and she can feel him turn his head toward her, but she keeps her eyes on the screen because she knows that his blue gaze would jumble her thoughts too hopelessly from this close.

"It's not bothering me. It just got me thinking," Emma tells him and slides her hand beneath his; his fingers curl around hers and her palm tingles from the iciness of his skin.

"About?" Killian prompts after a few moments and Emma shrugs, wondering why did she even bring it up if she can't find the words to tell him what she wants him to know.

"I'm your doctor," she says softly, still unable to face him. "Even if you wanted to date me, you couldn't."

"What do you mean even if I wanted to?" Killian asks incredulously and lifts their joined hands so that he can tilt her face toward his. "I would date you in a second if I could."

"I could ask to be excused from your case-"

"That's not what I mean, love," Killian says and Emma frowns.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm stuck in bed until God knows when. Ischemia isn't spreading, but there are no guarantees that it won't. I'm as far from boyfriend material as you could get."

"I happen to think you're perfect boyfriend material", Emma tells him softly and presses a kiss to his lips before he can argue. "We're gonna figure out how to help you, I promise."

Killian doesn't look too optimistic, but Emma doubts she'd be either if she were in his shoes.

Or, rather, just the one.

* * *

Emma is getting dressed in Killian's bathroom because her red dress has the zipper in the middle of the back and she needs him to zip her up. Besides, it's a good excuse to show him the dress; she doesn't know why is it so important, but she hopes he will appreciate it.

"Swan, it's almost 8. You're going to be late if you don't leave soon," he calls and Emma fusses with her up-do a moment longer before she opens the door and comes back into the room.

The dress is tight above the waist and flares below it, the folds of rich silk swishing when she moves and she's pleased that Killian can't seem to take his eyes off her.

"Could you zip me up?" She asks and presents him with her back, holding the dress with her arms and crouching a bit to allow him easier access.

"You look beautiful," Killian tells her when she turns back toward him, his eyes roaming over her figure and finally settling on her face. "Whomever gets to dance with you tonight will be one lucky man."

"I doubt there will be dancing. The goal is to get as many donations as possible before midnight without getting drunk."

"And that will be a chore?"

"You have no idea. People who give donations are usually awful snobs, but we need them so we turn to alcohol for help. Last year Whale got so drunk he threw up all over the stairs."

"Charming," Killian says and tips his head toward the door. "You'll be late."

"Okay, I'm going," Emma holds her hands up and takes her purse from where she'd hung it off the foot of Killian's bed. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Have fun."

"I really doubt that will happen, but you can keep your fingers crossed that I don't die of boredom," Emma says and blows him a kiss on her way out the door.

She hopes she'll manage to sneak off later to give him a proper kiss goodnight.

* * *

The conference room looks unrecognizable, flowers adorning every nook and tables set around the makeshift dance floor. There's a string quartet playing next to it and the alcohol is already flowing freely when Emma comes in, more than a few heads turning her way.

She joins Regina and Gold and spends the next hour mingling with esteemed guests, sipping champagne and listening to people with only half an ear because she's too busy wondering what's Killian doing.

"Emma!" Elsa calls her name from the other side of the dance floor and Emma gathers the skirt of her dress and makes her way to her, eagerly accepting a glass filled with what looks like apple juice but tastes like vodka.

"Oh I needed this."

"You're welcome."

"How long do you think we should hang out here?" Emma asks and turns her back on the dance floor lest one of the guests finds himself encouraged, but she's afraid she won't be able to keep them all at bay much longer.

"Don't even think about leaving before midnight."

"I'm bored out of my skull."

"Shhh, not so loud," Elsa exclaims, her big eyes going wide; she's wearing a beautiful pale blue dress that makes her look like and ice princess and the braid that falls over her shoulder is a thing of envy among the female guests.

"If I have to answer one more ridiculous question I swear I'll scream."

"Regina would have your head."

Emma and Elsa turn around at the same time, tracking the progress of their boss across the room and turning back to each other only when they are satisfied she's far enough away.

"Did you see who Gold brought as a date?"

"We're supposed to bring dates?"

"We're not, but he did," Elsa says and nudges Emma around, and she doesn't even have to point out Gold because he's impossible to miss in the middle of the dance floor, shuffling slowly with Nurse Belle in his arms.

"That's an interesting development."

"You should've seen Regina when she noticed. I've never seen that shade of red before."

"She should relax a bit," Emma says and tries to picture Killian in a tuxedo; the mental image alone is enough to make her go weak in the knees, and she fervently hopes there's an opportunity for him to wear it someday.

"How's your patient?" Elsa asks and Emma sighs because she doesn't have to ask for clarification.

"Still the same."

"Not getting worse?"

"At the moment no, but he's not any better either."

Elsa is quiet for a moment, then seems to come to a decision and looks Emma in the eyes.

"I hate to even think it, but is it possible that somebody is giving him something?"

"What?"

"Think about it, Emma. You're sure he's not smoking, but he's not getting better, he's arguably worse. The only explanation is that he's getting nicotine some other way."

"You mean to say that somebody's poisoning him?" Emma asks incredulously, a cold chill racing down her spine at such a thought.

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but when you rule out the impossible, whatever is left must be the truth."

"Way to go quoting Sherlock Holmes."

"You know I'm right."

"But this is a hospital. Who would do something like that? And why?" Emma asks, but the more she thinks about it, the less crazy it seems.

"That's up to you to figure out," Elsa says but before they can discuss it further two of the hospital's benefactors sidle up to them and won't take no for an answer when they ask them if they would like to dance.

Emma sees Regina glare at her over Mr. White's shoulder and she smiles at him, letting him take her hand into his dry, wrinkly one and then proceed to spin her around the dance floor with quiet dignity and quite considerable skill.

Elsa stumbles around because her octogenarian isn't nowhere near as spry as Emma's, but eventually the dance comes to an end and Emma excuses herself, leaving the room with as much stealth as she can considering the color and the cut of her dress.

It's after 11 p.m. by the time she makes her way back to Killian's room and for a moment she's worried that he might be asleep, but as soon as she whispers his name his eyes open and his smile lights up the dim room.

"Is it already over?"

"No, it's not," Emma says and drops into a chair next to his bed, scooting it closer and wincing when it squeaks.

"Can't you two let a man sleep?" Will grumbles from his bed and Emma apologizes, leaning closer to Killian before she asks him if he remembers anybody giving him a strange injection since he'd been here.

"Strange?" Killian asks, his eyebrows shooting up almost to his hairline. "You've turned me into a bloody pin-cushion in the past month!"

"I know, and I'm sorry, but this is important. Try to remember if there was anything out of the ordinary; was there a strange nurse coming in, or a doctor you're not familiar with?"

"No, there was nobody like that. Where are you going with this?"

Emma bites her lip and decides that she shouldn't share her concerns with him, at least not until she figures out if there's any truth to it.

"Nevermind. I was just curious."

Killian doesn't look like he believes her but he doesn't press her and she darts a look at Will, satisfied to find his eyes are closed and he seems to be dozing off, so she leans in and gives Killian a kiss, her hand cupping his cheek, blood buzzing inside her veins and warming her skin.

"We have to find you a private room," she whispers and Killian chuckles, his hand wrapping around her arm, his thumb caressing the inside of her wrist gently, and she marvels at the ease with which he can make her want him.

"You're the doctor, love. Figure it out," he tells her and she grins, then kisses him again.

"It's getting harder saying goodnight," she says, her lips brushing against his when she speaks because their foreheads are pressed together; her limbs are heavy and she would give a lot to be able to just curl up next to him and go to sleep.

"Tell me about it," he says and pulls back with a sigh. "It's late. You should go home."

"The Gala is still not over."

"You're tired, and besides, people who were going to give donations already did so by now."

"I guess", Emma says and pulls the combs from her hair, letting it cascade down over her shoulders. "If anybody asks I'll just tell them I didn't feel well."

Killian reaches out his hand and shifts her curls, cursing under his breath when one of the strands gets tangled in the IV.

"Careful," Emma admonishes and carefully untangles him, her stomach sinking when she sees that the blue tint on his skin has moved past his hospital bracelet.

"What?" He asks and she realizes that her discovery is written on her face, but it's too late to try and deceive him now.

"It's getting worse," she says softly and wishes more than anything to be able to do magic, so that she could erase all traces of sickness from his skin.

"Bloody Hell," Killian says and looks at his hand, his gaze shifting to his stump for a moment before his eyes find Emma's. "How long do you think-"

His voice breaks and Emma's heart does too because she knows what another amputation would do to him.

"If it keeps spreading, maybe a week."

Killian closes his eyes and a few tears spill down his cheeks quietly. Emma sits in a chair next to him and wipes them away, and she doesn't move until his breathing evens out and he falls asleep.

* * *

 **Review?**


	11. Vigil

**I'm not sure anyone is still alive after last night's episode, but if you are, here's the part of the story; things are going to be resolved in about five chapters, so enjoy the ride, thank you for reading, and see you back here on Thursday.  
**

* * *

The first thing Emma does on the morning after the Gala is take Killian's blood and do a nicotine test, the results of which are as expected; he's got nicotine in his system, but that in itself is no proof that somebody is poisoning him, since nicotine can stay in one's body for weeks and even months after you quit smoking.

Still, Emma spends as much time as possible with Killian, checking every notation the nurses make in his chart and watching them like a hawk when they inject him with various vitamins and painkillers.

It's Tuesday morning when she comes into his room after barely sleeping a wink the previous night and finds Will packing.

"What's going on?"

"He says he's leaving," Killian supplies and rubs the stump of his arm with his hand, his thumb rubbing the tender flesh mercilessly. "Tell him he can't do that."

"I can bloody well do whatever I want," Will tells him and zips his duffel bag. "If you knew what's good for you, you'd leave too."

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not exactly mobile right now."

"Oh cry me a river why don't you? I think you like being stuck in that bed and have everybody wait on you hand and foot, especially Emma."

"Will!" Emma exclaims, but he ignores her.

"I might be dying, but I can at least do it on my own terms."

"What happens when you get worse? When you can't eat anymore? When the pain gets too bad?" Emma asks him softly, still determined to make him see reason.

"Then I'll have the good sense to just die."

Emma stares at him with her mouth hanging open and can't think of a single thing to say to dissuade him.

"Don't do this, Will," Killian says, but it's clear he doesn't expect that Will is going to listen.

"Do you wanna take my IV line out of should I do it myself?" Will asks Emma and she glances at Killian, but he's staring at his lap and she ends up doing the only possible thing; she takes Will's IV out. "It was good rooming with you, Jones, aside from having to listen to your awfully cheesy pillow-talk."

"Piss off, Scarlet."

"I love you too," Will says and surprises Emma with a hug. "Take good care of this rascal, will you, Emma? He'd be completely lost without you."

"Don't worry, I will."

Killian and Will shake hands and share a long, loaded look before Will takes his duffel bag and saunters out of the room, Emma following close behind. She makes him sign various forms and walks him to the hospital entrance, and then she watches him cross the parking lot and disappear from view, knowing perfectly well that it's not likely she's going to see him again.

Gold shows up in Killian's room after lunch and gives her a thorough dressing down for letting Will leave and curtly reminds her that the hospital consists of other rooms aside from this one, and other patients aside from Mr. Jones.

He's one to talk, considering the number of times he frequents Killian's room every day.

Still, Emma can't afford to get on his bad side so she goes to work, giving all her attention to her other patients and staying away from Killian's room until she's sure Gold has left for the day.

When she finally returns, she finds Killian curled up in a fetal position on his side, his eyes closed and his sweaty hair matted to his forehead.

"Killian? What's wrong?"

"It hurts," he tells her and she checks his chart to find that he'd been given painkillers just an hour ago.

"I can't give you anything else for a while."

"It's like that time we went for a walk," Killian gasps and Emma feels her stomach sink.

How is she supposed to make him move when he can't walk and he can't use the crutches either?

Killian groans in pain and Emma tells him to give her a minute, then leaves his room and returns with a wheelchair.

"Can you sit up?"

"What's that for?" Killian asks, glaring at the wheelchair as if it's his arch enemy.

"Do you trust me?"

"Swan-"

"It's a simple question? Do you trust me?"

"Of course I trust you," he answers and Emma tips her head toward the wheelchair. "Let me help you get in, then."

Between the two of them they manage to get Killian into the wheelchair and Emma rolls him to the elevator, punching the number for the fourth floor and rubbing Killian's back when he doubles over with pain.

"Almost there."

Killian is quiet until she parks his wheelchair in front of the stairs leading up to winter garden; they haven't been there since the night before his last surgery, and judging by the incredulous look Killian is giving her, he doesn't think there's a snowball's chance of them getting up there tonight.

"We both know the pain won't go away unless we get you moving."

"What exactly do you suggest?" He asks her and Emma steps in front of him, holding out her hands.

"I'm going to help you climb."

Killian looks like he might argue, but then his features harden and he lies his right hand in Emma's left, the fingers of her right hand wrapping around his left forearm; she pulls and he stands up on his foot, wobbly until she wraps her arms around him and holds him upright.

"If you wanted to get close, all you had to do was ask," he jokes and Emma hides her smile against his chest, holding him tight for a moment longer, then shifts on his left side and wraps her arm around his waist.

"I'll help you keep your balance, but you're gonna have to get up there under your own power," she tells him and Killian sets his hand on the rail, takes a deep breath and hops up on the first step.

"You're the only one who would think of this," he tells her when they are about half-way up, both of them panting with exertion; he's heavier than he looks and Emma's back is screaming in protest, but she'll be damned before she complains.

"Is it at least working?"

"I'll let you know when we get to the top."

Ten minutes later they finally reach the winter garden, and then it's another fifteen feet to the plastic seat, and when Killian collapses on it she loses her footing and ends up landing on top of him.

Killian reacts instantly, wrapping his arms around her waist and keeping her from rolling off him and ending up on the floor, and they just stare at each other for a long moment, both struggling to catch their breath.

"Is it better?" She asks, trying to ignore the liquid feeling between her legs even as his arousal nudges against her thigh.

"It's better," he says huskily, looking up at her like she's the most beautiful creature he'd ever seen even though she must look a fright, but the truth is, when he looks at her like this, she believes she is.

Emma should be the one to disentangle herself from him and get up, but she does neither; instead, she leans down and presses her lips against his, feeling like a barrel of gunpowder close to explosion when he slips his tongue into her mouth and presses it against hers.

The plastic seat is wide enough for the two of them to lie down facing each other and Emma doesn't protest when he rolls them on their sides and slips his hand underneath the waistline of her scrubs, cupping her through her panties.

"Killian," she murmurs and tangles her fingers in his hair, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back when he presses a string of kisses from her jawline down to her collarbone, his fingers teasing her mercilessly, pressing against her just the right way.

"Let go, love. Just let go," he murmurs against her ear and sucks on her neck as he slides his hand underneath her underwear and finds her slick and hot, his clever fingers finding their objective easily and sending her flying with just a few expert thrusts.

Emma buries her hot face against Killian's neck and lies there gasping for breath, feeling utterly spent and more than ready to doze off, but it's a luxury neither of them can afford.

"Thank you," she whispers, feeling silly for saying them as soon as the words are out.

"There's no need to thank me, love. If anything, I'm the one who should be thanking you," Killian says and presses a kiss against Emma's forehead.

"We should go back to your room before Nurse Bea sends out a search party."

"In a minute," Killian says and holds her tightly for a while longer, until her breathing returns to normal and she's sure her legs will be able to hold her up.

Getting down the stairs proves to be too much of a challenge and so Killian just scoots down on his butt, his mood darkening so much that he barely kisses Emma goodbye before she leaves the hospital for the day.

Pride is a tricky thing, but his cold shoulder still hurts her; she'd been prepared to spend the night in his room and damn the consequences, but she ends up curling in her own bed just like she'd been doing for night after night since moving to Portland.

* * *

Killian seems listless for the next few days and Emma realizes he actually misses Will, but he hadn't been seen since leaving the hospital.

It's weird seeing Killian moping because he'd been so positive since Emma had met him, but his hand is still blue and it must be awful to look at it every day and wonder if you're still going to have it at the end of the week.

Emma doesn't know how to help him aside from distracting him a bit, so she brings Henry over, hoping her son will make him feel at least a little bit better.

Henry now carries one of Killian's books around with him and asks him a hundred questions that Killian answers patiently, his eyes brightening as he talks about his run in with a tiger in India.

"And you weren't afraid?"

"I was terrified."

"But you didn't run."

"If I had, I wouldn't be sitting here today," Killian tells him and Emma leaves them to it, deciding to check on something while Killian has Henry to keep him company.

When she returns Henry is gone and Killian looks dejected again.

"I just met your mother," he says and Emma pauses in the doorway, holding her breath as she waits to hear how that meeting had gone. "She's watching Henry until Regina gets off work."

"Yeah, I know."

"She seems nice."

"She is nice."

"What's that?" Killian asks, finally noticing the swimming trunks Emma is holding in her hand.

"We're going to the pool," she tells him and his eyebrows shoot up.

"Come again?"

"There's a pool in the basement and it's going to be empty in half an hour, so better hurry putting these on," she says and throws the trunks at Killian.

He catches them deftly and stares at them as if he'd never seen anything like that before.

"Need a hand?" She asks and he actually blushes, vigorously shaking his head.

"I'll manage."

"Good. I'll be back in ten minutes," Emma tells him and smiles to herself because this is going to be just the thing he needs.

It takes Emma a bit longer than ten minutes to rustle up a bathing suit for herself and to wrestle it on because it's a little bit too tight, but then she's finally ready and she returns to Killian's room, finding him sitting on the edge of his bed wearing a bathrobe and patiently waiting for her. Emma rolls in the wheelchair and taps the seat, then hands him the towels and a change of clothes before rolling him out.

"How come we haven't done this before?"

"I couldn't risk getting your bandages wet."

"And today?"

"You don't need bandages anymore," Emma tells him and pushes the button for the basement, more than relieved they hadn't run into Gold; he seems to be everywhere lately, liberal with comments that Emma wouldn't tolerate if they weren't true; she is too close to Killian and she can't exactly defend herself against Gold's accusations.

The pool isn't big or deep but Killian seems apprehensive as she kneels in front of him and pushes aside the folds of his bathrobe so that she can get access to his leg and carefully unwrap his bandage to reveal a perfectly healed stump.

"Swimming will help with the pain," Emma tells him and stands up again, quickly tying her hair into a messy bun and pulling her shirt up over her head.

That gets his attention, and he watches her undress looking like he's holding his breath until she's standing in front of him wearing just her bathing suit.

"Bloody Hell, Swan," he says softly and there he is making her feel more beautiful than anybody ever had before.

"Take the bathrobe off," Emma urges him and unties the sash keeping it closed, watching him shrug it off and practically feeling her pupils dilating.

Seven weeks stuck in a hospital bed did little to ruin his physique and Emma's fingers are itching to trace the firm lines of his biceps and pecks that are covered with dark hair which disappears into his swimming trunks and makes high color stain her cheeks.

"Sit on the edge of the pool," she manages to say and helps him do it, then jumps into the pool and comes to stand between his legs. "Ready?"

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" He asks, his apprehension back, and Emma nods, taking his hand and tugging gently.

"Come on. Jump in."

"What if I sink?" He asks and Emma pauses, realizing where his concerns lie.

"You can swim, can't you?"

"Yes, but-"

"Then you won't sink," Emma tells him and she can see the muscle in his jaw jumping when he grits his teeth and pushes himself off.

Emma swims backward and keeps an eye on Killian but it's soon obvious that he doesn't need her help; his initial apprehension dissipates quickly and he starts swimming from one side of the pool to the other, his arms and legs moving in perfect tandem.

He's fast and elegant and Emma swims in place just watching him and staying out of his way.

It's a full twenty minutes before he makes his way to Emma, water dripping from his wet hair and sliding down his impressive shoulders, and later Emma isn't quite sure if it was her who wrapped her arms around him or the other way around, but she's more than sure that in his arms is the only place she wants to be.

He kisses her and turns them around so that her back is pressed against the edge of the pool, and if she's a bit worried that somebody might walk in on them, Emma is too far gone to let it stop her from kissing him back.

His skin is smooth and warm and somehow he smells like the ocean instead of chlorine, his kisses igniting her so easily and making her bold, her hand sliding down his hard abs and below the edge of his swimming trunks.

"Swan," he gasps when she wraps her hand around him and the power goes to her head, making her squeeze him as hard as she dares, listening to his little grunts to help her figure out what works for him; she's determined to bring him to completion the way he'd done for her a few days ago, and it doesn't take her long.

His face is pressed against her shoulder and she's holding him in her arms with the aid of water, and it's the moment she knows without a shadow of a doubt that she loves him more than she had ever loved anybody else.

* * *

 **Review?**


	12. Your Past Haunts You

**We're past the half of this story, and Emma is finally going to figure out what Gold is up to, but it's not the end of her troubles; thank you for reading, and see you on Sunday for the next chapter.  
**

* * *

Emma had intended to just pop in on her way home, but Killian had looked so dejected that she ended up lying on the bed beside him and keeping him company as he watched some crime drama that would've bored her to tears if there wasn't for his running commentary.

Still, she had dozed off with her head on his shoulder and she awakes when he turns off the TV.

"Hey," she says groggily and blinks up at him. "What time is it?"

"Close to ten," he whispers and brushes a strand of hair back from her face. "I should've woken you up ages ago but I didn't want to disturb your sleep."

"I should go home."

"Yeah," he says, looking at her with eyes as soft as his touch. "We don't want people to talk."

"I don't want to go," Emma tells him, feeling reckless and too comfortable to move.

"I don't want you to go," he says with a smile that makes it easy to throw caution to the wind and just stay where she is.

"Then I'll stay," Emma tells him and reaches for her phone to set the alarm clock at the crack of dawn to avoid the nurses on their morning rounds.

"Are you sure?" Killian asks her but she just nods and lifts the covers to get underneath, lying back down on his bad side to avoid getting tangled in his IV line.

Her foot presses against his calf and he winces a little, then quickly wraps his arm around her when she apologizes and tries scooting away.

"You didn't hurt me," he reassures her and she resists the urge to ask him if he's sure; his expression always gets stormy when the nurses start babying him, so Emma tries to avoid doing the same whenever it's possible.

Killian Jones is a proud man but he's not above asking for help; he just hates when help comes even when he doesn't want it.

Emma rests her head on his shoulder and bunches her hands beneath her chin, but now that she'd decided to spend the night, she finds that she doesn't feel sleepy at all.

"Killian?"

"Hmm?"

"You said that you were sailing before you could walk. How does that happen?" Emma asks and stretches her arm across Killian's stomach, his fingers enveloping hers as soon as she brings her hand close enough.

"My father was a fisherman. My mother died soon after I was born so my father sold the house and just moved me and my brother to his boat."

"Did you like that?"

"I did. At first," Killian says, staring off into the middle distance as if he can see the past playing in front of his eyes.

"And then?" Emma prompts him gently, sensing that the story is going to have an even more tragic turn than the death of his mother.

"And then, years later, our father abandoned us. He just up and left in the middle of the night. Liam was nearly eighteen by then so he made me promise not to tell anybody about what had happened until his birthday because he was afraid they would take me from him and put me in an orphanage."

"Liam is your brother?"

"He is," Killian says, a wistful smile tugging on the corner of his mouth. "He's the best man I've ever known."

Emma wants to know what had happened to him, but she doesn't want to pick at old wounds, choosing instead to let Killian tell her on his own if he wants to.

"It's been nearly a decade since he'd been gone, but I swear that sometimes I'm still waiting to wake up and find him alive," Killian says and Emma squeezes his hand, offering him her quiet support.

"I wish I could've met him."

"He wouldn't approve of this thing we have," Killian says and grins fondly when she gives him an incredulous look. "He'd always been a pompous ass, but I know he would've liked you in the end. It's impossible not to like you, Doctor Swan."

A shiver races down Emma's spine at the way Killian's voice gets lower as he says her last name and when she glances at his lips he doesn't waste time before he kisses her, his fingers releasing hers so that he can thread them in her hair.

The fire catches so quickly between them, but Killian ends the kiss before Emma can even think about sliding her hand underneath his soft pajama bottoms.

"Good night, love," he says and presses another, gentler kiss to her forehead and Emma sighs, then snuggles closer and murmurs "good night" too.

She lies awake listening to him breathe, and then a little while longer snore softly, until she grows too tired to resist the pull of sleep and finally sinks under.

* * *

Emma wakes up when it's still dark outside, and for a moment she's completely disorientated, unsure where she is and why is her back pressed against the metal railing of the bed. She opens her eyes and sees Killian's profile, her body relaxing as she remembers her decision to stay with him.

Since her cell phone is on the bedside cabinet behind her and she can't reach it without turning and risking waking up Killian, Emma doesn't move, letting her eyes study his face; he's sleeping with his full lips slightly parted and the blanket tucked under his chin, his hand hidden underneath. It would make Emma smile if she weren't aware of the fact that his bad circulation is making him cold, and she's overwhelmed with the feeling of uselessness because there's nothing she can do to help him get better.

A tear slides down Emma's cheek and she wipes it away at once, trying to stop herself from shedding more because she would be mortified if Killian woke up and found her crying, and it's a relief when her alarm clock goes off and she can turn around to reach for her phone.

"Good morning, Swan," Killian says and nuzzles at the back of her neck while she rubs her eyes and tries to choke back a sob that wants to rise from her throat. "Love?"

"Morning," she says, her voice small and raspy, her shoulders slumped as she tries to make herself as small as possible.

"What's wrong?" Killian asks, his hand coming to rest on her waist; he doesn't try to roll her over and make her face him, and she's infinitely grateful for that.

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"C'mon, love. Whatever it is, you can tell me," he says softly, his hand rubbing up and down her side as he waits patiently for her to speak.

"I'm sorry you're not getting any better," she finally says and somehow gathers the strength to turn around and look him in the eye. "I don't know how to help you and I'm so sorry."

Killian looks stricken, but he recovers quickly and rests his forehead against hers before speaking.

"You're helping me more than you know," he tells her, both his arms wrapping around her waist and holding her tightly. "You don't realize it, but you're saving my life every day just by being here."

Emma is too overwhelmed to speak so she kisses him instead, then gently pulls away and forces herself to get out of bed because the nurses are going to come take Killian's vitals any second now.

"I'll come see you later," she tells him and she's already grasping the door handle when his voice stops her.

"Swan?"

She turns back around and returns to his side, smiling when he reaches for her hand and takes it in his.

"Would it be too forward of me if I asked you for a favor?"

"Of course not," Emma says and he hesitates for a beat, then lifts his ocean eyes to hers and asks her if she could go down to the harbor and check if his ship is okay.

"She'd never been empty for so long."

"She?"

"The Jolly Roger," Killian says and Emma's eyes go wide with surprise.

"Your ship is named after Captain Hook's?" She asks him and they both glance at the stump of his hand.

"I've well aware of the irony," he tells her drily and she giggles, secretly so proud of him for retaining his sense of humor.

"I'll go check up on her."

"Thank you, love," Killian says and Emma nods, leans down to give him another quick kiss and then finally leaves his room, sneaking by the Nurses' station on her way to the dressing rooms, a shower and a change of scrubs.

* * *

Since the docks aren't too far from the hospital, Emma decides to use her lunch break to go visit Killian's ship. It takes her ten minutes to find it because she expects something small, but it turns out that the Jolly Roger is fifty feet long with both the sails and two propellers.

Emma climbs on board and inserts the key Killian had given her into the only door she finds, fumbling for the light switch for a moment before finding it and turning the light on.

The very first thing she lies her eyes on is a picture in a wooden frame that hangs on the wall, the woman in the picture grinning at the camera, her long, dark hair lifted by the wind, and at first she just looks familiar to Emma, but then the realization slams into her and she has to brace herself on the kitchen counter because the woman in the picture is Milah, Gold's wife.

Bile rises in Emma's throat because suddenly Gold's behavior makes perfect sense, and all the times she'd seen him coming out of Killian's room are explained; there is not a single doubt in Emma's mind that Killian is getting worse because Gold had been injecting him with liquid nicotine under the guise of giving him something for the pain.

"Oh God," Emma gasps and manages to stumble to the kitchen bench, sitting down and putting her head between her knees until the dizziness passes.

Gold had been poisoning Killian for weeks, and very probably cost him his leg.

From where she sits Emma can see through the curtain to where there's another picture next to Killian's bed, and on this one he's got an arm around Milah, their cheeks pressed together, their eyes sparkling with joy and laughter.

It almost hurts to look at them to witness such happiness that was cut painfully short when Milah had taken her life.

Something cold slides into Emma's stomach because now that she knows what Gold had been doing to Killian, she can easily imagine him somehow making his wife take too many sleeping pills, punishing her in a brutal and final way for cheating on him.

Emma doesn't know how long she just sits there, only moving when her cell phone starts ringing, a glance at the screen telling her that it's August calling her.

It's time to go back to work, but her mind is buzzing, making it impossible to figure out what her next move should be; she knows that the most important thing is to get Gold the hell away from Killian, but her stomach feels like lead when she realizes she's going to have to tell Regina about her suspicions.

There's a pretty big possibility that Regina will take Gold's word over hers, but Emma decides that the risk is more than worth it considering the consequences Killian will face if she does nothing.

It might already be too late for Killian's hand as it is, so Emma finally gets over herself and quickly gathers all the pictures she can find of Milah, putting them in her bag before she locks the door and leaves the ship.

* * *

Emma ignores August's calls and goes straight to Killian's room when she gets back to the hospital; she should go see Regina first, but she's got a bad feeling and she wants to make sure he's alright.

It turns out that her instincts were right because Gold is standing next to Killian's bed, not even bothering to look at her when she bursts in.

"At this point, ETS is the only option, unless you'd prefer to lose your right hand too," Gold says and Emma sees red.

"Get out!" She grits through her teeth, her hands balling into fists when Gold turns and looks at her in surprise.

"Excuse me?"

His voice is icy and there's a silent warning in his eyes but right now Emma doesn't care; he had hurt Killian so much and she just wants him as far away as possible from her sailor.

"You heard me. Get the hell out."

"Doctor Swan-"

"Emma, what are you doing?"

"He's Milah's husband!" Emma says and something chillingly malevolent flashes in Gold's eyes, but Emma holds her ground, silently challenging him to deny it.

"Milah was my wife, yes, but I don't see what that has to do with anything," he says, and all the alarm bells go off in Emma's mind.

Gold is lying, and he knows that she knows it.

"Swan, what are you saying?" Killian asks, looking between the two of them in confusion, and Emma reaches for her phone, quickly googling "Milah Gold" and showing Killian the picture of her and Gold at the Gala.

"He's the reason you're getting worse," Emma tells Killian softly, watching him hold her phone in his blue and black fingers, his thumb hovering over Milah's face on the screen.

"This is preposterous," Gold sputters, but neither Emma nor Killian pay him any mind.

"Did Gold ever inject you with anything?" Emma asks Killian, her hand coming to rest on his shoulder to get his attention because he seems transfixed with Milah's picture in his hand. "Killian?"

"He said it was stronger painkillers," Killian says and Emma's stomach drops with both relief and rage.

"How many times did it happen?"

The door of the room slams shut as Gold leaves, but Emma can't deal with him now, all her attention on Killian.

"Every day," Killian says and looks up at her with such desperation in his eyes she can't think of anything else to do but drop on the bed next to him and wrap her arms around him.

"I'm so sorry," she says, holding him tightly and praying that he's not going to pull away.

"It's not your fault," Killian says numbly, then presses his face against her neck, his fingers tangling in her hair as she holds him close.

"I'm sorry I didn't figure it out sooner," she tells him, trying not to think about what would've happened if Killian hadn't sent her to check on his ship.

"Better late than never, eh?" He tries to joke even as his voice breaks, and Emma holds him tighter, rubbing her hand up and down his back and uselessly searching for comforting words.

She could tell him that he's not losing any more limbs, that he doesn't need ETS, that he's going to walk eventually and learn how to use a hook, but she knows that he needs time to process the losses he'd had in the light of the realization that they could've been prevented.

"Yeah. Better late than never," she says and keeps holding him until the hurt lessens.

* * *

 **Review?**


	13. From Bad to Worse

**You guys are so good to me, and I can't thank you enough for all your feedback and encouragement. I'm sorry about all the angst, but there's still more to come; I hope to see you here for the new chapter on Wednesday.  
**

* * *

Eventually Killian dozes off in Emma's arms and she carefully slides off the bed, caresses his cheek with the backs of her fingers and then leaves him to sleep. The anger swamps her as soon as she comes out in the hallway and she goes straight to Regina's office, ready to do everything in her power to convince her that Gold is the one to blame for Killian's condition even though she doesn't have any proof.

Emma knocks on Regina's door and enters without waiting for an invitation just to find Gold already sitting in a chair across from Regina's desk.

"Dr. Swan. How nice of you to join us," Gold says and Emma gets an overwhelming urge to punch his lights off and then kick him too for good measure.

"I need to talk to you," Emma tells Regina, ignoring Gold and coming to stand next to her desk. "It's about Mr. Jones and what Dr. Gold had done to him."

"Oh it's Mr. Jones now, is it?" Gold asks nastily, but Regina just gives him a sharp look and focuses her attention on Emma.

"Dr. Gold tells me you're having an affair with Mr. Jones and that you're convinced he's jealous of the two of you and punishing Mr. Jones for it by effectively poisoning him," Regina says and Emma feels the ground rock beneath her feet because she should've seen this coming, should've come to talk to Regina straight from the harbor.

"Dr. Gold is poisoning Killian but it has nothing to do with me; Milah Gold was having an affair with Killian and Gold got the perfect opportunity to torture him when he was admitted," Emma tells her, trying to keep her voice even, focusing on the facts and not the emotions, not the terrible pain Killian had suffered and the consequences he's going to feel for the rest of his life.

"I had no idea that my wife was cheating on me, even less whom with," Gold says and Regina's eyes narrow, studying him carefully for almost a minute before she speaks.

"You're lying."

"I'm not-"

"You're trying to tell me that you've just heard about your dead wife being unfaithful to you before she killed herself, and you're so calm and composed? I'm not buying it," Regina says sharply and Gold looks at their boss so malevolently that Emma feels chilled from it too.

"You can't let him treat Killian anymore," Emma says and Regina shifts her dark gaze on her, clearly pissed off.

"No, I can't, but the same goes for you; having an affair with a patient… I expected better from you, Dr. Swan."

"I'm not having an affair with him!"

"You slept in his bed," Regina says, her voice almost gentle before it turns to steel, "and we can't have such gross misconduct in this hospital."

"Regina-"

"We're not on our son's playground now, Dr. Swan, and you will refer to me as Dr. Mills," Regina says sharply and Emma feels smaller than ever before. "Dr. Gold, I'm suspending you pending inquiry. You are not to set foot anywhere into this hospital until I finish investigating Dr. Swan's suspicions."

"Dr. Mills, I-"

"My decision is final," Regina says and calls security to escort Gold off the premises, which comes as a great relief to Emma.

But Regina is obviously still not done with her.

"As for you, Dr. Swan, from now until we figure out exactly what's wrong with Mr. Jones and he gets transferred to Orthopedics, you're forbidden from coming anywhere near his room or the ward itself."

"That's not necessary-"

"I will decide what's necessary and what isn't, Dr. Swan," Regina cuts her off and Emma presses her lips together. "If you're seen anywhere near Mr. Jones room I will have no choice but to suspend you too."

"Who's going to make sure that Killian's IV isn't tampered with anymore?" Emma asks, her stomach tying itself into knots when she realizes that she wasn't any help earlier despite spending so much time in Killian's room.

"Everybody will be on the lookout for Dr. Gold from now on. Mr. Jones will be quite safe," Regina says and starts gathering the papers on her desk, clearly done with Emma for the time being.

For a moment Emma is on the verge of telling Regina about Gold's affair with Belle, but then it occurs to her that Gold could try to use Belle to get to Killian, and then there would be undisputable proof that he's guilty for what she'd accused him of, so Emma quietly leaves Regina's room, already forming a plan to catch Belle in the act.

But first, she needs to talk to Killian.

* * *

"Nurses' Station."

"Ruby, it's Dr. Swan," Emma says and plucks at the dead leaves of the only tree in the winter garden that's still hanging to life. "Why isn't the phone in Mr. Jones' room working?"

"There's no phone in room 72 anymore," Ruby whispers and Emma leans her forehead against the wall; she should've known that Regina would do something like this.

"Did Dr. Mills tell you that I'm not allowed in the ward?"

"She did. She also made me ask Mr. Jones if I could take the phone from his room."

"And did anyone tell him that I'm forbidden from seeing him?" Emma asks, her heart sinking when Ruby tells her that nobody did.

"What about his cell phone? Dr. Mills can't stop him from using his own phone," Ruby offers and Emma tasks her with finding out what happened to it after Killian was admitted while she goes to make a round on Immunology.

She hopes there won't be any new cases today because she doesn't feel up to tackling anything even remotely challenging.

* * *

Emma is in her office trying to catch up on all the paperwork she's behind on when her mother rushes in, her cheeks rosy from her run and her eyes filled with concern.

"Regina just told me what happened with Killian and Gold," Mary Margaret says and drops in a chair across from Emma, watching her as if she's something fragile that might fall apart any moment now. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine, Mom," Emma says softly, hoping that her mother will let it go because she doesn't feel like discussing it right now.

Killian's phone is dead because it's been stuck in the snow for eight hours on the night he'd passed out in the street, and if she wants to communicate with him, she's going to have to write him a letter.

"I can't believe Gold would be doing something so vile," Mary Margaret says, looking as naïve as ever, and Emma wishes there was a polite way of telling her to go away.

She loves her Mother and she's glad they've been reunited, but sometimes she doesn't know how to talk to her.

"There's always been something sadistic about him, but we all ignored it because his methods got results," Emma says and presses the heels of her hands to her eyes, feeling so awfully guilty for not realizing what was happening sooner.

If she had, Killian would probably still have his leg.

"It's not your fault, Emma."

"I let myself get close to him, and it clouded my judgment," Emma whispers, the need for someone else to acknowledge her guilt suddenly overwhelming.

"How close?" Mary Margaret asks slowly and Emma sighs, already missing the touch of Killian's hand more than she can stand.

"Too close," Emma says bitterly and runs her fingers through her hair, messing up her tilting ponytail further. "I kept seeing Gold coming out of Killian's room and I never put two and two together."

"Gold was his doctor too."

"But Gold never visits patients."

"But Killian is a famous writer. I'd expect him to get a better treatment too," Mary Margaret says and it's the same thing Emma had told herself to explain Gold's presence there.

"I messed up," Emma says and blinks back tears, but her throat is tight and her mother's face is rapidly getting blurry. "I messed up so badly."

"Emma, no, it's not your fault," Mary Margaret repeats when Emma covers her eyes with her hands, a sob escaping her because she had failed Killian in the worst possible way, and she's so afraid that this time apart will make him realize that.

Warm arms wrap around her and pull her close, Emma's wet face pressing against her mother's stomach, her hands bunching the soft material of Mary Margaret's sweater as she cries out all her anguish and apprehension and sorrow.

It takes her a while to calm down, and when Mary Margaret wipes off her tears Emma feels like she's five years old again, and she finally has somebody there to take care of her and make everything better; an old wound heals inside her and Emma feels stronger, ready to face just about anything.

"Killian will be okay, and Gold is going to pay for what he'd done," Mary Margaret says firmly and Emma wishes she could have that much hope, but she's more than a little afraid that Gold will get away with it and that Killian's hand won't last long enough for his body to expel all the nicotine he'd been poisoned with.

"I hope so, Mom," Emma says and wraps her arms around her mother's waist once more, hiding from the world for a little bit longer.

* * *

Before going home Emma writes Killian a letter, explaining everything that's happened since they've last seen each other, warning him to be wary of Belle, especially if she shows up with any kind of injection; Ruby had told Emma that Dr. Mills has taken over Killian's case, and the first thing she did was take his IV out and ordering nurses to start giving him pills for the pain.

There is so much more Emma wants to tell him, starting with how much she already misses him, but she doesn't trust Ruby enough to believe she won't peek into the letter before giving it to Killian, so she holds back all her emotions and tells him he's welcome to write back to her.

Emma signs the letter with just her last name, puts it in an envelope and closes it, then gathers her stuff and walks downstairs, knocking on the ward door until Nurse Bea comes to see what all the ruckus is about.

"Dr. Swan. You're not allowed in," Bea says and blocks the door with her considerable width.

"I know. That's why I knocked. Could you please give this to Killian?" Emma asks sheepishly, holding out the letter and hoping Bea won't be difficult.

"I'm sure Dr. Mills wouldn't like this," Bea says and Emma's heart sinks, but then the nurse smiles and takes the letter anyway. "But she'll never know."

Emma grins when Nurse Bea winks at her and thanks her three times before finally turning around and leaving the hospital.

* * *

Emma is in the operating room, assisting on a hand amputation and trying to remember who the patient is. August must've told her ten times already but she just can't remember although she knows it's important.

"Almost done," August announces and pulls the skin down over the newly-formed stump, leaving it to Emma to stitch up.

She takes her time, trying to make the scar as neat as possible, but she keeps messing up stitches, feeling frustrated and ashamed when she's finally done.

And then she looks up and sees Killian looking back at her, her stomach dropping somewhere around her knees when she realizes what she had done.

"Killian-"

"Did you save my hand, Swan?" He asks and they both look down, and then he screams and screams and it seems he will never stop.

Emma sits up in bed drenched in cold sweat, her heart hammering against her ribcage as she blinks in the dark, Killian's screams still ringing in her head.

"It's alright, love. It was just a bad dream," Killian says and gently rubs the small of her back with his stump, her heart rate slowly returning to normal.

"It seemed so real," Emma whispers and turns on the lamp on the bedside table, wiping her wet cheeks on her sleeves before she lies back down.

Killian wraps his arms around her from behind and it's only then she realizes that both his hands are gone, and it's her turn to scream.

It's what wakes her up, this time for good.

Emma opens her eyes to her darkened ceiling and pinches both her arms hard, daring to turn on the light only after she feels the pain.

It's 4:23 a.m., but she doubts she'd be able to go to sleep again, so she takes the Journal of Immunology off the bedside table and opens it on a random page, determined to read instead of thinking about her nightmares.

She resists the urge to call Nurse Bea and ask her for an update on Killian's condition, but despite her best efforts it's all she can think about until her alarm clock goes off and it's time to get up and go take Henry to school before work.

* * *

There is a letter waiting on Emma's desk when she gets in, her last name written in beautiful, curvy handwriting that must be Killian's; it fits with the romantic notion of a Englishman who sails the oceans and writes books about his travels, and Emma feels a cold chill run down her spine when she remembers what she had seen in her dream.

She hesitates for a moment, wondering if anyone had helped Killian seal the envelope, then shakes herself and takes his letter out.

 _Dear Swan,_

 _I'm terribly sorry to hear that you got in trouble with your boss because of me, and I hope this won't affect your career in any way; you deserve all the best and brightest things, Emma, and I would hate if you didn't get them because of me._

 _As instructed, I'll be wary of Belle, even though so far, she has yet to make an appearance in my room. I can't imagine her doing anything unethical just because she's having an affair with Gold, but then again, I never imagined my doctor purposely poisoning me either._

 _I feel I should tell you again, love, that what happened to me was not your fault, and you shouldn't feel guilty for not noticing what was going on sooner; Gold is a sneaky bastard, and he swindled me so easily I feel ashamed for falling for it._

 _Today has been the longest day since I've been stuck in this bed, and your letter came like an oasis to a man lost in the desert, so I can only hope you will be so kind to write me another, if you can find the time, of course._

 _I don't want to alarm you, but I miss you very much, Swan, and I can't wait to see your lovely face again._

 _Killian_

By the time she finishes reading Emma has a huge grin stretching her lips and warmth in her heart nothing can cool, and she feels renewed determination to prove what Gold had done.

To do that, she's going to need a little help from her friends.

* * *

 **Review?**


	14. What Are Friends For

**Thank you again for your continuous support, and I hope you like this chapter because we're getting even more closer to the resolution of Gold situation. The new chapter will be up on Saturday, and until then, enjoy.**

* * *

It takes Emma a whole of thirteen minutes to recruit August and Whale to keep an eye on Belle; August is easily bought with the promise that Emma is going to do his paperwork for him for the next three months, and even though Whale is a little bit harder to crack, eventually he gives in.

All it takes is the promise that Emma will set him up with Ruby.

Since August and Whale are often seen loitering at the Nurses' Station, Belle won't suspect anything, but Emma still needs someone to watch her if she leaves the ward, someone who won't make her wary, and someone who can afford to be away from their own ward if need be.

"You want me to follow this nurse around for how long?" Elsa asks Emma and gives her a wide-eyed look over her pineapple smoothie.

"You don't have to follow her all the time," Emma answers with an encouraging smile, trying not to be too pushy because if Elsa says no, there's nobody else she can ask. "Just when she leaves the ward. Might not be for longer than half an hour a day."

"How will I know she left the ward?" Elsa asks and Emma grins, relieved that her friend is on board with her plan.

"I gave August your cell phone number, so he'll text you the second Belle leaves."

Elsa blushes fiercely because she'd always had a soft spot for August, and Emma resists the urge to warn her off him.

"Do you honestly believe she would try to keep poisoning Killian for Gold?" Elsa asks after putting August's number in her phone and Emma shrugs, telling her that she's not going to take any chances.

"She seemed really into him when I walked in on them in the supply closet."

"Yeah, but that was before she knew what Gold had done."

"I wouldn't put it past him to blame me for everything; he could have told her that I made up the story because I'm jealous, the way he tried to get out of it with Regina," Emma says, trying to keep her anger under control even though the very thought of Gold makes her blood boil.

"If I didn't know how down to Earth you are, I'd never believe what you're saying about him. It's just too vile," Elsa says and shudders, quickly finishing her smoothie and rushing off when her pager goes off.

"Thank you!" Emma calls after her and Elsa waves it off, disappearing through the cafeteria door and leaving Emma to finish her coffee while she works on a new letter for Killian.

* * *

Every evening for the next week Emma leaves a letter with whichever nurse is on duty, and every morning she finds one from Killian on her desk, but it still weighs down heavily on her that she can't see him whenever she wants. Regina refuses to tell her anything about Killian's condition, but the nurses aren't as tight-lipped, and according to all accounts, he is getting better.

His remaining hand is still attached to him and Emma counts that as progress.

Despite the vigilant attention of Emma's spies, there's still nothing that could implicate either Gold or Belle, and Emma is starting to feel worried that she's never going to prove what Gold had done.

Killian's letter on Friday morning is especially chipper, peppered with funny anecdotes from his travels that cheer her up and make her ache with the need to see him even more; their separation is making her think about him ever more than she used to, and she often has to shake herself to stop daydreaming and focus on work.

It still astounds her that he can be so positive, his letters so upbeat and devoid of any traces of despair Emma is sure she would feel if she were in his position.

When her phone rings after lunch and the screen shows an unknown number, Emma almost doesn't answer because she's busy at the lab, but something tells her it's a call she should take, so Emma picks up with a brisk "hello".

"Ahoy there, Swan," Killian's voice fills her ear and Emma almost drops her phone.

"Killian?!"

"You don't sound exceptionally happy to hear me," he teases and Emma's lips stretch into a broad grin.

"I am. You just surprised me. Where did you get a phone?"

"Will's come to visit, and he was kind enough to lend me his," Killian tells her and Emma could kiss Will for coming around at the best possible moment.

"Gotta help the lovebirds stay in touch!" Will yells from somewhere in the background and Killian shushes him quickly, afraid that he's going to attract the attention of nurses.

"How are you?" Emma asks, eager to get a proper update on his condition before someone comes in and interrupts them.

"I feel much better," Killian says and Emma convinces herself that she can hear improvement in his voice. "There's talk of giving me a wheelchair so I can finally get out of bed."

"That's wonderful news."

"I miss you, Swan," he tells her sweetly, unexpectedly, and for a moment she's too stunned to reply. "If I manage to get to the winter garden, will you wait for me there?"

Emma knows she shouldn't do this, knows that she's risking a lot more than her career if Regina finds out she'd disobeyed her order, but there's a vulnerable note in Killian's voice that she simply can't ignore.

"When?"

"Tomorrow around six p.m.?"

"I'll be there," Emma tells him and feels her heart rate speed up in anticipation.

"The visiting hours are long over-," Ruby says and Killian abruptly hangs up, leaving Emma sitting in front of the microscope in a daze that lasts for a few minutes before she tells herself to get a grip and goes back to staring at red blood cells.

* * *

Saturday turns out to be insanely busy with three new patients coming in, which leaves Emma with no opportunity to get jittery about seeing Killian when she's not supposed to; it seems like she just blinks and it's already 6 p.m., and although she wishes she could just drop everything and go, she simply can't.

Twenty-five minutes later Emma steps out of the elevator on the fourth floor and finds an empty wheelchair at the bottom of the stairs leading up, her stomach dropping as she looks around and then takes the stairs two at a time, trying not to get her hopes up and failing spectacularly.

"Killian," she says on an exhale when she gets to the top, shaking her head in confusion because he's here, sitting on the plastic seat and grinning broadly at her.

"Hello, love."

"How did you get up here?" She asks as she walks closer, Killian's smile flickering a little before he rains in his emotions and tells her not to worry about it.

"But-"

"Leave it, Swan," he tells her and wraps his fingers around her wrist, tugging on her arm until she sits down next to him, and she falls into the blue in his eyes, swaying forward until their lips meet and all the apprehension is forgotten.

After a week apart she's finally kissing Killian again, and right now she wouldn't care if the entire hospital found them like this.

"I'm sorry I couldn't come on time," Emma tells him a while later, flushed and breathless from his kiss and already dreading the moment they will have to part.

"It's alright. I didn't get up here until a few minutes ago myself."

"Precisely how did you get here?" Emma asks again even though she's pretty sure she already knows the answer.

"Swan-"

"Did you hop up? Because you should've waited for me to make sure you don't fall," she tells him and bites her lip, wishing she didn't sound like such a mother hen.

She knows he hates that, and she can't blame him.

"I assure you, I wasn't in any danger of falling," he says and kisses her again before she can ask any more questions.

"You're trying to distract me."

"Indeed I am," Killian murmurs against her mouth and kisses her so thoroughly her head spins and she completely forgets what she had intended to ask him.

"I hate it when you do that."

"Do what?" Killian asks innocently and Emma rolls her eyes, then pulls back and takes his hand between the both of hers.

"Let me see."

"We're not wasting time on that," he tells her and pulls his hand away, rising it to cup her cheek and make her meet his eyes. "I didn't invite you here to doctor me, Swan."

"I just want to make sure you're better."

"I am better," he tells her firmly and Emma needs to make an almost physical effort to focus on him instead of on his condition.

"Did Regina tell you when she might transfer you to Orthopedics?"

"She's been nothing but vague, but otherwise very accommodating. Between you and me, I think she's afraid I might sue the hospital and then sell my story to the papers," Killian says and Emma gapes because it had never occurred to her something like that could happen.

"You have every right to do both of those things," Emma says in a small voice, fully aware that she's probably the only one stopping him from doing just that.

"This hospital isn't to blame for what happened. There's just one person who should pay for what he's done, and I don't have any proof," Killian says bitterly and Emma entwines her fingers with his, holding on and resisting the urge to examine them, focusing her gaze on Killian's profile instead.

"We will find the proof."

"Belle hasn't been in my room since Gold was suspended. Not even once."

"Doesn't mean she won't try something in a day or two," Emma says reassuringly, hoping to God she's right.

"Perhaps. But enough about me. Tell me what's new with you. How's your lad?"

"Nothing much. I've got a few more new patients. Henry is fine, but he's sulking because Regina won't let him visit you. I suggested he wrote you a letter and he promised to give it to me tomorrow. I'm taking him to the Railroad Museum."

"Tell him I'm looking forward to his letter," Killian says and lifts their joined hands up to brush the backs of his fingers against her cheek. "Thank you for replying to mine, Swan."

"You're welcome," Emma says, and she can see in his eyes that despite his bravado, their separation is weighing as heavy on him as it is on her.

If she could, Emma would stay like this with him until tomorrow, but she's worried someone will come looking for him and find them here, so she reluctantly pulls away and tells him she needs to go.

"How about a kiss goodnight?" Killian asks cheekily and Emma chuckles even as she wraps her arms around his neck and gives him a lazy, wet one, feeling absurdly proud with herself when they pull away and he looks completely dazed.

"Let's go," she says as she stands up, holding out her hands and pulling him to his foot, then ducking around his arm and helping his balance as he makes his slow, hopping progress to the stairs. "For real now… how did you get here?"

"I scooted up on my posterior," he says and she would have laughed at him for using a synonym for butt if there wasn't for his earlier reluctance to answer that question.

"I am such a bad influence," Emma says and Killian's chuckle fills her with joy.

"You're worse than some pirates I know."

"You know pirates?"

Killian tilts his head and winks at her, filling her to the brim with affection and warmth, and it's the hardest thing to let go of him once she helps him settle back in his wheelchair.

"See you up there next Saturday?" He asks hopefully and there is no other answer Emma can give him but "yes".

* * *

"Belle got into Gold's car at the back of the parking lot and came out five minutes later," Elsa says as soon as Emma picks up her phone, her voice low and urgent.

"Where is she now?"

"In the elevator. She's going back to the ward. I already texted August and he's ready to go after her if she comes anywhere near Killian," Elsa says and Emma's stomach drops to the vicinity of her knees.

Her gut tells her that this is it, that Gold is finally making his move, and her every instinct urges her to go make sure that Killian is alright.

"I'm coming too."

"Emma, no. You can't be anywhere near the ward, especially not if we catch Belle in the act; it might make Regina disregard any evidence we find. If we find any."

Emma knows her friend is right, but it's so hard being left out of something this important.

"You go instead of me, then."

"I'm already on the way there," Elsa assures her and then Emma is left pacing the hallway in front of her office, staring at her phone every ten seconds and willing it to ring.

Ten minutes goes by, then twenty, and Emma is already walking toward the elevator when she sees Elsa's name on the screen.

"What happened? Is Killian alright?"

"He's fine. August went into Killian's room three seconds after Belle did."

"And?!"

"Killian was feigning sleep and she was about to inject him with something. Whale's got the syringe and he's taking it to Dr. Mills. August is escorting Belle to your office," Elsa says and Emma almost doubles over with relief.

"Thank you, Elsa. Really, thank you."

"You're welcome. I have to say, Emma, I did not expect Killian to be this handsome," Elsa tells her and Emma chuckles, feeling incredibly light and giddy.

"I can't believe you didn't tell your friend precisely how handsome I am," Killian's voice comes on the line and a chuckle bubbles out of Emma's mouth, her lips stretching into a wide grin.

"You're full of yourself enough as it is," she teases and his laugh is like a song, like an answered prayer, like finally coming home.

"Ah, but I have good reasons to be."

"You're impossible," she tells him, then abruptly sobers up when she sees August coming down the hallway, leading Belle by the arm. "I have to go."

"I'll see you soon, love," Killian murmurs and they hang up, Emma's hand balling into a fist on its own volition even though Belle looks frightened and confused.

"You need to not be here," August tells Emma and urges Belle into their office.

"What?"

"It will be better, trust me," August says in one of his rare moments of wisdom and Emma is forced to agree.

"Call me when you need me," she tells him, shoots Belle a dark look over her shoulder and walks off in the direction of the elevator.

It will be impossible to focus on work, but she knows for a fact that there's always something to do on Elsa's ward, something involving sweet-smelling infants and feeding bottles, and since Elsa is taking care of Emma's favorite patient, Emma is more than willing to return the favor.

* * *

 **Review?**


	15. Just Desserts

**As promised, here's the new chapter; I have just one more to write before I can start posting every day, so thank you so much for being so patient and kind to me. Enjoy, and see you back here sooner than you think. ;)  
**

* * *

Regina calls just as Emma is putting baby Lewis into her crib and Emma fumbles with her phone, her hands suddenly shaky because both Killian's future and hers depend on what her boss will say.

"Can you come see me in your office, Doctor Swan?"

"Sure," Emma barely manages to say before Regina hangs up, and the void in Emma's stomach expands as she walks briskly to the elevator and then down the hall back to her office.

"Come in," Regina calls when Emma knocks on her own door, and she comes in to find Whale and August standing one in each corner of the small office while Belle sits on a chair across from Regina, who's reigning the tableau from behind Emma's desk; the nurse's eyes are red from crying, and she's turning a wrinkled handkerchief over and over in her hands.

"What's going on?" Emma asks as innocently as she can, but one look from Regina tells her that she shouldn't bother.

"Nurse Belle says that Doctor Gold gave her a bottle and told her to inject Mr. Jones with it. He also told her that it was medicine but she wasn't supposed to tell anybody what she's doing because they would try to stop her."

"It is medicine, I swear," Belle hiccups and Emma almost feels sorry for her.

"Where's the bottle? Let's analyze it and see what's what," Emma suggests and Regina nods at August, who excuses himself and leaves the office.

"While we wait, there's another matter to discuss," Regina says and gives Emma a long look before she continues. "Do we handle this in house, or do we get the police involved?"

Emma frowns, for a moment not quite sure what Regina means, but then it clicks and her eyes go wide with surprise.

"You want to brush it under the rug!"

"Doctor Swan-"

"Killian spent weeks in pain, he lost limbs he shouldn't have, he's going to have consequences for the rest of his life, and you want to handle it in house?!" Emma exclaims, her hands balling into fists because she feels like she might snap and do something she'll later regret if she doesn't keep a firm hold on herself.

"I'm not saying that Gold won't pay, I'm just wondering what would involving the police entail for this hospital. And for you," Regina says and Emma feels like she'd been punched in the gut.

"Are you threatening me, Regina?"

"No, Emma, I am not," Regina says and she suddenly looks tired and completely defeated, which is something Emma had never seen before.

"What are you saying then?" Emma asks her, making an effort to remain civil because she feels like she has to make this right on Killian's behalf.

"If this gets out, the hospital might never recover, and we all know that as soon as the police gets involved, the reporters won't be far behind," Regina says and gives Emma an almost pleading look when she goes on. "They will crucify Gold, but they won't spare me, you, or the hospital."

"They might do that, but what's the alternative? You fire Gold and he finds another job tomorrow."

"There is a way for everybody to get what they want," Regina says, then adds with an evil grin, "everybody except Gold."

Emma turns to look at Whale who just shrugs as if none of this has anything to do with him.

"What do you have in mind?"

"While we're gathering proof of Gold's malpractice, you convince Mr. Jones to write an article about his experience here that paints us in a good light. Once he's done, we call the police and simultaneously get his article published, getting rid of any bad press before it can even crop up."

Regina's plan is brilliant, but Emma feels awful even considering it.

"I'm not sure Killian is going to feel up to that… We'll be lucky if he doesn't sue the hospital."

"You and I both know he won't sue, Doctor Swan, and if there's anyone who can convince him to write this article, it's you," Regina says and Emma sighs because she knows when she's in a corner out of which there's no easy way out.

"I'll talk to him, but I won't use his feelings for me to make him do what you want," Emma says and when Regina gives her just a nod in acknowledgement, she can't miss the opportunity to annoy her a bit. "Although, how am I supposed to talk to him when you forbade me from going anywhere near his room and his telephone mysteriously disappeared?"

Regina doesn't say anything, just lifts a well-groomed eyebrow and glances at the door, giving Emma a clear choice; continue with the smartass comments or go talk to her boyfriend.

Emma turns on her heel and walks out of the office.

* * *

Although there's no doubt in Emma's mind that what was in Belle's injection was nicotine, she still can't resist going up to the lab to see for herself that the technician is handling the sample correctly; this is their only chance at getting Gold, and Emma intents to make sure everything goes smoothly.

She finds August chatting up Stella, one of the most dedicated people Emma knows, who giggles like a schoolgirl in the presence of one of the Mercy's greatest; Emma is pretty sure that August had never been to the lab before, and wonders if he had to ask for directions to get here.

Stella starts when she finally notices Emma standing in the doorway and gives her a sheepish smile before turning back to her machines, while August turns lazily, shaking his head at her for ruining his come on.

"How much longer do you think it'll be?"

"Half an hour tops, but I can tell you right now that there's about eighty percent chance that what August brought me is in fact liquid nicotine," Stella says and Emma breathes a sigh of relief, then leaves them to it with a pointed look in August' direction, which he promptly ignores.

Emma gets to Killian's room just as Ruby is about to go in with his dinner, so Emma takes the tray and tells her she'll cut the meat for him; it's been two days since she'd seen him last but it feels like longer, and in light of everything that's happened today, she doesn't want to wait for dinner to be over to be alone with him.

"Good evening," she says and Killian sits straighter in bed, grinning as she approaches.

"Isn't this a nice surprise?"

"We're testing the thing Belle wanted to inject you with but it's pretty obvious what it is, so I don't have to stay away anymore," Emma says and puts the tray down, then sits on the edge of Killian's bed, grabs the lapels of his bathrobe and kisses him until they are both breathless.

"So it's over?" He asks hopefully and Emma avoids his inquiring gaze, focusing on his hand instead.

"You're getting better already."

"Thanks to you."

"Yeah… Where's Elsa?" Emma asks, noticing only then that her friend isn't where she promised she'd be.

"They called her ten minutes ago; somebody was about to have a baby but she only left when I assured her I'd be fine on my own," Killian says with a chuckle and cups Emma's cheek in his hand, gently urging her to look at him. "What's bothering you, love?"

"I have a favor to ask."

"Anything I can do for you, I will," he says and she shakes her head, telling him to listen what it is first.

"I need you to write an article about what happened to you."

"An artic- Why?" He asks, his brows coming together in confusion.

"If we let the news-reporters hear about what Gold did first, it's going to reflect badly on the hospital, Regina, and the people Gold worked with."

"You?"

"And August and Whale."

"How would they find out about it?"

"You know how cops are. As soon as Regina calls them, somebody's gonna talk, and then God knows what's gonna come out in the papers," Emma says empathically and finds that she can't take the intensity of Killian's gaze for more than a few seconds, so she busies herself with cutting everything on his plate into bite-sized pieces.

"Swan, stop," Killian says softly and Emma pauses, but doesn't relinquishes the knife and fork until he covers her hand with his. "Would you look at me?"

"You don't have to do it. I shouldn't have even asked, but-"

"Swan," Killian cuts her off and she only looks at him because there's a trace of laughter in his voice. "I'll do it."

"You will?"

"I know better than you how news-reporters can be, and I don't want then anywhere near you; if anyone is going to write about what happened to me, it's me."

"Regina was considering not even calling the cops just to avoid bad publicity, but I need you to know that I'd never let her do that, never let Gold get off easily," Emma says, determined not to keep Killian in the dark about anything.

"Believe it or not, I understand her position; her first priority is protecting the hospital."

"Not if it means letting a monster go unpunished," Emma says bitterly and goes back to hacking up Killian's food.

He lets her vent, and once she feels calmer she sets the the tray in front of him, handing him the fork and going to stare out the window while he eats.

She wishes she could fall asleep and wake up when Gold is safely behind bars.

"Do you think you can find me a legal pad and a pen?" Killian's voice startles her and she blinks, turning around and finding him struggling to open his pudding.

"You want to write tonight?" She asks and holds out her hand for the pudding, which he surrenders with a resigned sigh.

"No time like the present, eh?" He says as she sets the pudding in front of him, his brave smile making her heart squeeze painfully in her chest.

"I'm sure I can find something," Emma tells him and leans down for a parting kiss, tasting vanilla on his mouth before leaving the room in search of some stationary.

* * *

Emma is back at the lab because Killian had politely told her that she is too much of a distraction, so she sits in a high chair next to August, both of them watching Stella work, albeit for entirely different reasons.

"Guys, you're staring at me."

"Stop ogling her already," Emma whispers to August and he gives her a "Who? Me?" look she can only roll her eyes at. "Regina is probably this close to calling you and asking what the Hell is taking so long."

"I'm not the one doing the test!"

"No, you're just the one hoping to be doing the technician," Emma murmurs under her breath and jumps out of her seat when Stella announces that the results are in.

"As expected, it's liquid nicotine," she says and hands Emma the printout with a flourish, blushing fiercely red when August gives her a kiss on the cheek by way of thanking her.

"I'm taking this to Regina right now, and you're coming with me," Emma tells August and practically has to drag him out of the lab.

"I trust that you've spoken to Mr. Jones?" Regina asks when Emma hands her the proof that Gold has been poisoning Killian and enlisted Belle to do it for him, and Emma assures her that Killian is determined to have the article finished by midnight.

Belle is looking between them with wide, frightened eyes, her lower lip trembling when it dawns on her that her boyfriend had not only lied to her, but also made her an accomplice in an awful crime.

"Time to call the boys in blue," Regina says and picks up the phone, and Emma feels like a huge weight has finally been lifted off her shoulders.

* * *

Detective Humbert keeps them all in the hospital well past midnight, gathering statements from everybody including Belle, who tells him everything, not even attempting to shield Gold. Killian is the last one the Detective talks to, but there's nothing new he can find out from him so he doesn't stay too long.

Emma gets the feeling he's so brisk in part because he doesn't know how to handle Killian's missing limbs, and Emma realizes that it's the first time Killian's been in touch with somebody who isn't either a medical professional or a patient; it's a harsh reminder that the majority of the general population doesn't really know how to handle disability.

Some people find it hard not to be awkward around a disabled person, and judging by the flexing of Killian's jaw as Detective Humbert leaves, it's more upsetting to him than either of them had anticipated.

"How's the article going?" Emma asks, determined not to bring the Detective's behavior up unless Killian does, because the last thing he needs right now is more coddling.

"It's done," he says and hands her the legal pad. "I think you should type it up for me; it'll be quicker than letting me stab at the keyboard with one hand."

Killian rarely gives in to self-pity, but it's been a long week and Emma can't really blame him for doing it tonight.

"I'll do it right now."

"I wrote you an e-mail address you should send it to on the last page," Killian says and rubs his eye with the heel of his hand, looking beyond tired and drained.

"Do you think they can publish it tomorrow if I hurry?"

Killian glances at the clock on the wall and shakes his head.

"Too late for that. The newspapers are already on their way, but if you send it tonight, it'll make its way into the evening edition."

"Then I'll type as fast as I can," Emma says and gives him a quick kiss before going back to her office to write his story.

It's half past three a.m. by the time she's finished, her eyes are burning with tears and lack of sleep, and it doesn't even occur to her to go home.

Emma makes her way down the deserted hallways of the hospital, walking quickly but quietly and slipping into Killian's room without alerting anybody to her presence.

He's sleeping, but even so he shifts to give her more room when she slides into bed next to him, her arm wrapping around his waist and her head coming to rest lightly on his shoulder; she's so tired but she's too wired to sleep, feeling raw inside from Killian's words, from seeing his tragedy through his eyes.

She'd been treating him for months, but she did not fathom the whole extent of his pain and suffering until tonight; her coping mechanism works well to allow her to do her job, but now she wonders if she could've done more to comfort him if she ever let herself imagine precisely how it feels to be sick without even the doctors knowing what's wrong with you.

But then again, Emma thinks, if she had done that, she'd have just fallen apart, and then she wouldn't be any help to him or her other patients.

Still, the words from his article haunt her, going round and round in her head and making it impossible to fall asleep.

* * *

 **Review?**


	16. Fight

**If anyone is still up to it after that finale, have a new chapter. Thank you for reading/reviewing, and I hope you enjoy the rest of this story; it's going to be coming much quicker now.  
**

* * *

Emma wakes up to Ruby urgently shaking her shoulder, and she blinks sleepily in the harsh morning light, trying to remember what day it is and why is she in Killian's bed when she's not even supposed to go anywhere near his room.

"Detective Humbert wants to talk to Mr. Jones again!" Ruby exclaims and Emma looks between her and Killian, who seems to be coming awake more quickly than she is.

"He can't find you here, love," he tells her and her sluggish brain finally makes the connection.

"Nurse Bea is holding him up outside, so you can only go hide in the bathroom," Ruby says apologetically as Emma shimmies back into her scrubs and shoots Killian a death glare because he looks like he's enjoying this.

"I think it would be good if you locked the door behind her, in case the Detective decides he needs to go to the bathroom before he leaves," Killian says and Emma sticks her tongue out at him as she enters the tiny bathroom, listening to the sound of the key turning in the lock and closing the toilet seat so that she can sit down.

The walls between rooms are solid, but the bathroom is a new addition and she can hear everything clearly when Detective Humbert comes into the room and apologizes for disturbing Killian again.

"It's quite alright; if there wasn't for you, the nurses would be poking and prodding me right about now."

"I've come to ask you about Doctor Gold; anything you can tell me would be appreciated."

"Didn't we do this yesterday?" Killian asks, sounding both resigned and bored.

"We can't find him. We've got an arrest warrant but he's not at either his place or his girlfriend's apartment, and we don't know where else to look."

"And you think I'd know where he went? We weren't exactly buddies, Detective. He'd come in, give me an injection that he claimed was a special kind of painkillers but was actually poison, and then he'd bugger off. We never talked about anything but my condition and how much time left my hand or foot had before they'd have to lop them off."

There's so much rage in Killian's voice that Emma shivers, and she can just imagine Detective Humbert's stunned face, but to his credit, he doesn't back down, just continues with his line of inquiry.

"As I understand, you've had an affair with Doctor Gold's wife until she passed away, so I wonder if she ever mentioned a place he likes to go to, like a vacation house or a-"

"Sebago Lake," Killian cuts him off, the conviction in his voice impossible to miss. "He's got a small cabin at the Northern tip of the lake; Milah took me there once for a weekend; she told him she was going to an antiquities fair."

"We'll check it out."

"Now that I think about it, that's probably when Gold realized that she was cheating on him… There's no doubt it's the reason he killed her," Killian says, and then there's a lengthy silence during which Emma holds her breath, waiting for the Detective's confirmation that they are reopening Milah's case.

"We're looking into Mrs. Gold's death, but she'd been cremated and it's going to be hard to prove that Doctor Gold had anything to do with her death, unless we get his confession."

"The bastard will never confess," Killian says bitterly and Emma feels a surge of compassion for the woman who loved Killian before her, the one she'll never meet, the one without whom Emma and Killian never would have crossed paths.

"We'll be in touch," Detective Humbert says noncommittally and Emma hears the door close behind him with a soft click.

She waits, but Ruby doesn't show up to let her out of the bathroom.

"Killian?"

"Yes, I know. Ruby left the key on the nightstand. Just let me figure this out."

"Figure what out? Just push the button and one of the nurses will show up. Eventually," Emma says and tries to finger-comb her hair.

"I can bloody well cross eight feet and let my girlfriend out of the bathroom on my own," Killian says sharply and Emma swallows hard, praying quietly that he doesn't fall, not because she's afraid he'd hurt himself, but because after months in bed, he needs to succeed in doing this on his own.

She knows that his worst problem is finding a new balance because his left side is now lighter and hopping on one foot isn't as easy as it would be for somebody not missing any limbs, but she bites her tongue and sustains from giving him any pointers.

Three minutes later the bathroom door opens and she comes out to find Killian grinning from ear to ear, leaning his forearm against the doorway, his eyebrow lifted up in a challenge.

"I told you I could do it."

"Who said I ever doubted you?"

Killian's eyebrow climbs higher on his forehead and Emma rolls her eyes, then wraps her hand around the back of his neck and brings him down for a thorough kiss.

"I know you've had enough of being stuck in bed, but if you've waited so long, you can wait another week to get back on your feet," Emma tells him when they come apart, her arm sneaking around his waist to help him keep his balance.

"As long as it's just a week and not longer," Killian reluctantly agrees, and then charms Emma into letting him go to the bathroom on his own.

If he knew what he's going to face in physical therapy, Emma is pretty sure he wouldn't mind staying in bed a while longer.

* * *

Detective Humbert waits for Emma when she comes out of Immunology, ready with another round of questions about Gold and his habits.

"I didn't really know Gold outside of work. He always spent the least possible time in the hospital, and he never talked about any plans with us."

"Very well. Mr. Jones suggested that we check a cabin on Lake Sebago, so we're going with that. I won't exclude the possibility of Doctor Gold returning to the hospital, so stay alert and call me if you see anything suspicious," Detective Humbert says and hands Emma his calling card.

"You don't really think he'd risk coming here in broad daylight?"

"Considering everything he did so far, it wouldn't surprise me if he did," Detective Humbert says softly and Emma feels a cold chill rush down her spine.

As soon as he rounds the corner Emma takes out her phone and dials her father's phone number.

"Hi, Dad. I need a favor."

* * *

"Hey," Emma says as she pokes her head into Killian's room. "Whatcha doing?"

"Trying not to expire from boredom."

"Would you mind if my dad watched his game in your room?" Emma asks, trying to keep a straight face and not let Killian know that this is just her plan of keeping him safe without making him feel like he's being babysat.

By her father, no less.

"He drove Mom here because it's raining, and he doesn't feel like going home just to come back two hours later. And miss half the game," Emma adds and Killian shrugs as if it makes no difference to him where her father spends the afternoon.

"As long as it's not baseball," he says and Emma assures him that it's not, then goes back in the hallway and returns with her dad a minute later.

"David Nolan. It's nice to finally meet you," David says and Emma watches them shake hands, hoping they will get along well.

She's more than a little proud that her dad doesn't seem the least bit self-conscious around Killian, dropping in a chair next to his bed and asking him to switch to ESPN.

"I'm going back to work," she says and they both nod, already immersed in the Champion's League, finding a common language with a help of the second most important thing in the world.

* * *

The police try to take Gold down and he somehow ends up escaping them, which both Killian and Emma's father blame on Detective Humbert's incompetence.

"The guy is old and he limps; how do you let somebody like that escape?" David asks as he paces in front of Killian's bed.

Emma glances at Killian, but he doesn't seem offended; if anything, he looks pleased that her father isn't mincing his words because of Killian's disability.

"He's also supposed to be brilliant, when he's not being vengeful, at least."

"You think Humbert underestimated him?"

"He was looking for an elderly doctor. Probably took just one or two policemen for back up, and there you have it," Killian says and finally notices Emma's worried gaze. "Don't worry, love. I'm sure they will catch him soon."

"I hope so," she murmurs, deciding then and there that she's not going to allow for Killian to be alone until Gold is apprehended, even if it means mobilizing her mother and all her friends too.

"Everybody in this hospital knows who he is and what he's done, Emma. He doesn't have much chance of getting in without people noticing and calling the cops," David says and lays his hand on Emma's shoulder, his eyes giving her a silent promise that he's going to make sure nothing bad happens to Killian again.

"I believe you, Dad," she says, but she can't help wondering if they are the ones underestimating Gold this time.

* * *

For the next week Emma sleeps in Killian's bed and lets her family watch over him while she's working, and it's a relief that he doesn't seem to mind their presence, even though it's quite clear that he'd seen through her plan right from the start.

Henry comes to visit a few times and Emma loves watching them together, talking about sports and Henry's school projects, but most of all, Killian's travels.

"Does it bother you?" Emma asks him on a sunny Tuesday, sitting on the edge of his bed and examining his hand; now that he's not getting injected with nicotine anymore, his recovery is as quick as the decline was.

"My hand? Not at all."

"Not your hand. Henry's questions. Talking about where you've been."

Killian considers her question for a moment, then shakes his head and tells her that he doesn't mind her son's questions.

"I miss it, and when I think that I might never go on another journey I feel like I can't breathe, but if that is true, then all I have are the memories, and I'd like to keep those intact for as long as possible, which won't happen if I don't talk about where I've been and the people I've met."

"I keep telling you; there's no reason why you wouldn't be able to go on another trip once you get the prosthetics."

"We'll see. Speaking of those… when do I meet my physical therapist?"

"Friday at 9 a.m.," Emma says, happy that she can finally give Killian some good news.

"This Friday?"

"Yeah. You're more or less healed, and I see no reason why you shouldn't start with the PT."

"About bloody time," Killian chuckles and tugs on Emma hand until she leans down and gives him a kiss.

She smiles against his mouth, tangles her fingers in his hair and gets a little lost in his arms.

* * *

Emma is coming back from lunch when she decides to take the stairs because there's a dozen people waiting for the elevator and she doesn't feel like trying to squeeze in between them. Later she will wonder if it was pure coincidence or something else that drove her to the stairway at the precise minute Gold was trying to sneak into the hospital, but she'll come to the conclusion that it really doesn't matter.

It's the worst kind of shock meeting somebody you absolutely don't want to see in a darkened stairway, and it's even worse to meet your former mentor who had made your lover's life a living hell.

Especially when he reacts faster than you and whips out a gun, the nuzzle leveled right between your eyes.

"What a nice surprise running into you here, Doctor Swan," Gold says in a voice so syrupy that Emma's stomach turns.

"The police are looking for you."

"The police are a joke. They announced their presence two miles away from the cabin, which gave me plenty of time to give them the slip."

"If you leave now I won't even tell anybody you were here," Emma says evenly, fairly sure that he won't believe her but feeling that she has to try nonetheless.

Killian and her dad are watching TV together, but Gold has a gun and she doesn't want him anywhere near either of them.

"Don't insult my intelligence," Gold tells her coldly and jerks his gun toward the door Emma had just come through. "Lead the way to your lover's room, and don't even think about trying to play a hero."

She notices only then that he's wearing scrubs and that he'd left his cane somewhere, his limp worse than ever as he uses his free hand to help himself up the stairs; when he reaches the landing he puts a surgical mask on, hiding half his face, his cold eyes daring her to give him a reason to shoot her.

There's no doubt that he would if she gave him the least provocation.

Emma walks out in the hallway and finds it abandoned, which leaves her with no choice but to walk slowly in the direction of Killian's room, Gold's shuffling steps following close behind her.

Her heart is in her throat all the way there, but even though they pass a few people and a lot of medical personnel, nobody seems to notice the gun in Gold's hand, everybody preoccupied with their own problems.

By the time they get to Killian's room Emma feels like she might faint any second now, but then Gold's gun digs into the small of her back and she turns the knob with a shaking hand, walking inside on rubbery legs.

"Mr. Nolan, go into the bathroom and close the door if you want your daughter to live," Gold says and it's only then that David and Killian tear their eyes from the TV screen and realize that Emma is not alone.

"Emma-"

"Love-"

"Mr. Nolan! I'm not even going to count to a number. Leave your phone on the floor and get into the bathroom," Gold says and David looks between Emma and Killian, then gets up from his chair and does as Gold had asked.

The door closes and Gold urges Emma deeper into the room, pushing her away so that he can keep both her and Killian in the sight of his gun.

"Sit on the bed and be quiet," he instructs her and Emma sinks gratefully down onto Will's bed, hot tears rolling down her cheeks as she stares at Killian's profile and prays that something will happen, that somebody will come and save him because she does not want to learn how to live without him.

"You've got me and Dave where you want us. Why don't you let Emma go?"

"And have her get the hospital security? Oh no, Mr. Jones. Doctor Swan stays exactly where she is, and once I'm done with you, I'll use her to get out of here."

"Aren't you a brave one? Holding a gun on a cripple and a woman in love with him," Killian taunts and Emma's nails dig into her palms when she closes her fists, frantically trying to think of something clever that would save them both.

"I don't really need a gun, Mr. Jones. All I need is this," Gold says and takes a capped syringe out of his pocket. "Once you get injected with this, you're going to wish you were dead."

He smiles and one of his gold teeth glints ominously in the sunlight, while Emma's blood freezes in her veins and makes her feel like she's the one who's dying.

* * *

 **Review?**


	17. Recovery

**There are four more chapters plus the epilogue left after this one, so enjoy, and thank you for all your support.  
**

* * *

Killian knows that he doesn't have a lot of time to come up with some sort of a plan to disarm Gold; he doesn't think that anybody's going to come to their rescue, so trying to keep Gold talking won't really lead anywhere.

"Doctor Swan. I'm going to need your assistance after all," Gold says and holds out the injection, Emma's wet cheeks growing even paler than before, her eyes flitting around the room before settling on Killian's.

He shakes his head almost imperceptibly, but she gets the message loud and clear, judging by the way she lifts her chin and tells Gold he can go to Hell.

"If you don't do it, I'm going to shoot your boyfriend in the head in ten seconds. One," Gold says, malice dripping from every word, and Killian's stomach sinks when Emma gets up from the other bed, her hand reaching for the syringe.

"Swan, no."

"He's going to kill you if I don't do it," Emma exclaims and takes the syringe, her fingers shaking so badly she almost drops it.

"Careful!"

"Emma, look at me," Killian pleads, his hand squeezing into a useless fist because Gold is standing just out of reach, and even if he wasn't, there's no hope for Killian to take the gun from him without getting shot.

If there were just two of them he'd risk even that in hopes that the gunshot would bring people running, but Emma is here and he does not want to do anything that would put her in jeopardy.

"Whatever he put into that syringe, I don't want to find out… I'd rather get the bullet," he tells Emma and she closes her eyes, fresh tears leaking from under her eyelashes and sliding down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," she finally says and walks around the bed, holing the syringe aloft and turning her back on Gold, who grins wickedly and pokes Emma with his gun.

"Tick tock, Doctor Swan," Gold says and Emma gives Killian a wobbly smile, then uncaps the syringe and wraps her fingers around his forearm.

"I love you," she says, and before Killian can even open his mouth to tell her that he loves her too she turns in a lighting quick move, knocking the gun out of Gold's hand and simultaneously jabbing the syringe into his shoulder.

Gold roars like a wounded animal, lunging for the gun, but Emma is quicker once again, picking it up and leveling it right between her ex-superior's eyes just as her father bursts out of the bathroom.

"Please give me a reason to shoot you," she says, her voice so filled with rage Killian barely recognizes it. "

Gold's face distorts into a grimace of pain and Emma hands David the gun, telling him to keep an eye on Gold while she summons the hospital security.

"I need an antidote!"

"Not until you're cuffed," Emma says coldly and Gold sinks to his knees, David and Killian exchanging a look of worry that Emma doesn't seem to notice.

"What are you waiting for?" Gold asks as soon as Emma leaves the room, his eyes flitting between the gun in David's hand and Killian.

"I'm not going to ask him to give me the gun," Killian says even though he can picture himself pulling the trigger and watching blood stain the wall behind the man responsible for Milah's death.

Gold moans in pain and Killian draws quite a bit of comfort from that, but he's still relieved when Emma returns with two burly security guards, followed by Ruby and Dr. Whale.

One security guard takes the gun from David while the other frisks Gold, and only then they allow Dr. Whale to help Gold on a stretcher, a pair of handcuffs appearing in their hands and soon securing Gold to it.

"What was in the syringe?" Dr. Whale asks Gold as Ruby rolls the stretcher out of the room, the security guards going with them, Emma's father following after a pat on Killian's shoulder and a quick hug he gives his daughter.

Emma doesn't even wait for the door to close behind them all before she straddles Killian's lap and wraps her arms around him, clinging on like a warm, shivery koala bear.

"I'm so glad you're okay," she says and Killian holds her tightly, hunting for words that would express how he feels about her.

"You are a bloody marvel, Swan, but please don't ever put yourself in danger like that for my sake," he finally manages, murmuring the words against her ear, his voice low and strained.

"Says the man who wanted me to stand by and watch him getting shot in the head," Emma says and pulls back to give him a stern look.

"I was actually counting on him to miss and the gunshot to alert the nurses," Killian says with a sheepish smile and Emma shakes her head, then abruptly gives him a fierce kiss, her fingers tangling in his hair, her heart hammering against his chest and letting him know that she's not as composed as she appears to be.

"Let's just hope you'll never again have a maniac after you," Emma says against his lips and gives him another kiss before going back to clinging to him.

Killian kisses the side of her head and doesn't let her go until she pulls away.

* * *

According to Ruby who brings Killian his breakfast the next morning, Gold has recovered enough to be transported to jail pending trial. Emma had spent the whole afternoon yesterday giving a statement and Killian couldn't blame her for going home afterwards instead of spending another night in his narrow bed even though he had missed her, and found it hard to fall asleep, his mind too busy replying the day's events.

When he finally did doze off, he dreamt about Emma getting shot and he woke up in a cold sweat well before dawn.

"Hey," Emma says from the doorway, interrupting his reverie and bringing a smile to his face.

"Hello, Swan."

"Ready to meet your prosthetist?"

Killian feels like somebody had taken the bottom out of his stomach, but he does his best to keep his voice calm when he asks her if she got the dates mixed.

"I don't think I did."

"You said I'm starting physical therapy on Friday."

"You are, but first you need a consultation. Kristoff is going to get your measurements and hook you up with temporary prosthetics you will use while the custom ones are being made," Emma explains and Killian is suddenly reluctant to leave the bed.

He'd been so eager to finally get back to his feet that he had never really thought about everything it would entail.

Or, rather, he never let himself think about it.

"Come on, get in," Emma says when he doesn't move and taps the seat of his wheelchair, her encouraging smile making him feel both angry and worthless.

"Why didn't you tell me about this appointment before?" Killian snaps as he makes the awkward transfer into the wheelchair, his cheeks burning because he knows he sounds like a petulant child and yet, he can't seem to help himself.

"I had thought that Doctor Mills would have explained it to you. As you know, I'm not your physician anymore. Conflict of interests," Emma tells him and leans down to give him a loud, wet kiss on the cheek.

It's impossible to stop his lips from tipping up at the corners despite his suddenly thunderous mood, but his stomach sinks lower when Emma kneels in front of his chair and looks at him with eyes full of understanding he doesn't think he deserves.

"Look… I'm here as your girlfriend, not your doctor, but if you want, I can tell you exactly what's going to happen today."

"Let's just get it over with," Killian says after a moment's contemplation and Emma nods, then presses a firm but quick kiss to his lips before grasping the handles of his wheelchair and rolling him down the hallway.

Doctor Bjorgman greets Killian with a warm handshake and an invitation to call him Kristoff, and the more he talks, the less anxious Killian feels; Emma is quiet, sitting in a chair next to his, giving him an encouraging smile as Kristoff carefully measures his stumps and makes a mold for both.

"I'm gonna have your new hand and leg ready in about two weeks, but until then, let's find you something temporary," Kristoff says with a conspiratorial wink and opens the inner door of his office, leading them into a large room filled with what seems like a hundred of prosthetic arms and legs.

Killian feels overwhelmed, but then Emma lies her hand on his shoulder and squeezes, and he manages to hold back the bile rising in his throat; this is his life now, and the sooner he accepts it, the easier it's going to be on him to learn how to walk again, tie his own shoes and do all the other things that require two hands.

Kristoff picks a prosthetic that has a hook at the end of it instead of fingers and Killian can practically feel blood draining from his face, but he assures Emma that he's alright when she asks him if he wants them to come back tomorrow.

"How do I use it?" He asks when Kristoff lies it on the table in front of him, and the doctor exchanges an amused smile with Emma before he speaks.

"First you have to learn how to put it on."

"Show me, then," Killian mutters and spends the next hour struggling in and out of various prosthetics until they find two that fit well enough considering the fact that they weren't made for him.

Afterwards, he feels exhausted and rather depressed, but Emma escorts him back to his room and drops down in his lap as soon as they pass the threshold, her hands cupping his cheeks before she leans in and gives him the sweetest kiss she had ever given him before.

"I'm proud of you," she says, and even though he doesn't think he deserves her praise, she looks at him with such honest eyes that he can't help feeling a little bit proud of himself too.

And so, when despair fills his chest that evening as the lights are turned off, Killian tells himself over and over again that he can do this, that he can find a way around the limitations of his body and go back to the man he was before that fatal night in the snow.

Sleep claims him before he can quite convince himself of it.

* * *

 _In regione caecorum rex est luscus,_ the sign above the hospital gym reads and Killian shoots Emma a wry look over his shoulder.

"In the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king," he translates, his voice full of disbelief.

"You can read Latin?" Emma asks, looking at him with hungry eyes and no small amount of surprise.

"Impressed?" He asks and lifts his eyebrow, reveling in the way a blush tints her cheeks a lovely shade of pink.

"Maybe a little," she admits grudgingly and he laughs, but he sobers up quickly when Emma introduces him to his physical therapist, a fellow Englishman by the name of Arthur.

Emma's pager goes off just as Killian manages to slide his stump into the socket of his prosthetic and he assures her vehemently that he'll be perfectly alright on his own.

"Don't worry, Doctor Swan. I'll take good care of him," Arthur says and Killian grits his teeth because he doesn't need a babysitter, but he manages a smile for Emma's benefit and breathes a sigh of relief when she's finally gone.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't talk about me like I'm a child," he tells Arthur as he puts a stump sock on what's left of his calf.

"It got rid of her, didn't I?" Arthur says and Killian looks up to meet his laughing eyes. "I've been doing this for a decade, and believe me, I know how oppressive it is for people to have family around when they start PT."

"I'm not sure if I should punch you or thank you," Killian says and Arthur makes an exaggerated step back.

"I'm not helping you up until you decide which one you want to do," Arthur grins and Killian rolls his eyes, but he's got to admit that he likes the bloke's approach.

"Thank you," he says and wiggles his stump into the socket, pulling the string out and checking that the prosthetic is adhering well to the liner before looking at Arthur with expectation. "Now what?"

"Now you stand up," Arthur says and taps the parallel bars in front of Killian.

"And you don't intend to help me up," Killian says, reasonably sure that Arthur won't have any qualms about letting him fall on his face if he decides that Killian isn't trying hard enough.

"I'm here to stop you from injuring yourself further, not to hold your hand every step of the way," Arthur tells him and tilts his head to the side, wordlessly saying _get on with it_.

Killian grasps the parallel bars with his hand and the pincers of his prosthetic, levering himself up on his first try.

Maybe learning to walk won't be as complicated as he had dreaded.

* * *

An hour and a half later Killian is drenched in sweat, and he feels like a truck had run over him when Arthur finally declares the therapy over for today.

Emma comes back just as Arthur helps Killian take hi prosthetics off and walks up to them with an apologetic smile.

"Sorry I couldn't come back sooner. How was walking?" She asks Killian and he shrugs, telling her that she didn't miss much.

"Don't be so critical," Arthur tells him sternly before walking away to greet another patient.

"Tired?" Emma asks as she rolls him out and Killian shrugs noncommittally even though both his arm and leg feel heavier than they have any right to be.

"I need a shower."

Emma passes the door to Killian's ward and hits the call button on the elevator, leaning against the wall and just smiling when he asks her where she's taking him.

"Your favorite place in the hospital," she says and he slouches deeper in his seat, wondering what she means by that because he's pretty sure he hates every single corner of this place.

Five minutes later Emma is taking off her scrubs and he's shimmying into a pair of swimming trunks, gratefully throwing himself into the pool as soon as he gets them on, sinking below the warm water and just floating there until Emma pulls him up to the surface.

"You can hold your breath for a long time," she says and moves behind him, gently kneading the muscles in his arm as he floats and studies the patters on the ceiling.

"And that surprises you?"

"I got a bit scared," Emma admits and he shifts his eyes to her face.

Her _I love you_ has been ringing in his mind since yesterday, but there simply wasn't any opportunity to say it back to her without her getting the wrong idea; he doesn't want her to think that he's saying it out of some kind of obligation because the truth is completely the opposite.

Killian lets the water hold him up and turns around, standing in front of Emma and smiling into her eyes, his arm wrapping around her waist and his hand rising to cup her cheek.

"It would take a lot more than five feet of water to take me down," he tells her and kisses her nose, then her forehead and both cheeks, saving her lips for last.

"Promise?"

"I promise," Killian says, and he hopes she can tell how he feels about her even without him saying the words.

 _I love you_ , his lips spell against the soft skin of her shoulder when he kisses her there, and a renewed surge of determination courses through him because he can't wait to get out of this hospital so that he can finally show her exactly how deep his love for her is.

Emma snuggles into his embrace and he thinks that she must already know.

* * *

 **Review?**


	18. Closure

**Thank you for all your feedback and encouragement, this story has been the hardest to write, and I don't think I would've finished without you guys. This journey is almost over, but there's still excitement ahead of you, so I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

Emma takes Killian to his PT session every day without fail, but she always makes up some excuse not to be there because she had seen his relief when she had left on his first one; she wants him to be comfortable and at ease so that he can achieve his goals as quickly as possible.

If it means she can't watch him do it, she can live with that.

Days seem to rush by because while Killian is busy learning how to walk and practicing his new hook on everyday tasks (his favorite is using it as a cup holder), Emma is busier than ever because Killian's article brings over people from all over America; it's a lot of pressure trying to fill Gold's shoes, but August and Whale are more than supportive, and their track record isn't too shabby at all.

It turns out that people respond much better to her caring nature than they ever did to Gold's rude approach.

"Swan? Can you… do you have time to stay?" Killian asks her about three weeks in his therapy and Emma pauses with her hand on the door, doing a quick calculation in her head; the blood results for a new patient shouldn't be ready for about an hour and she was going to try and catch up on some paperwork, but on the other hand, Killian obviously wants her here and she doesn't want to let him down.

"Of course," she tells him and ignores Arthur, who's making a silly face and holding his thumbs up behind Killian's back.

Killian's smile is a fragile thing, and Emma tries not to be too overbearing, so she sits in the corner and scrolls through her phone while Killian gets his leg on, which turns out to be an astoundingly quick work.

He glances her way once more before he grabs the parallel bars, and then he hauls himself up and she feels like her heart had dropped to somewhere around her knees.

 _Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry,_ she tells herself again and again, moving across the gym before she even knows what's she doing and coming to stand at the end of the parallel bars, a huge lump in her throat and an encouraging grin stretching her lips.

"Wait for me there," Killian says and Emma nods, gripping the bars with both hands and watching him slowly cross the distance between them, using only his hook for balance.

She's a trained medical professional, but the sight makes her so emotional she can't stop the tears welling up in her eyes, her vision blurry by the time he comes to a stop in front of her.

"Impressed?" He asks and wiggles his eyebrows, his thumb brushing away the tears that escape her and Emma laughs, throwing her arms around him and disturbing his fragile balance so that he ends up sprawled on the mat with her on top of him.

"Sorry, sorry," she giggles and he kisses her neck, assuring her that he's quite alright. "I'm really, really proud of you."

"Thank you, love," he murmurs and shifts underneath her, giving her a loaded look that makes her blush. "I think you should get up before certain things… arise."

Emma buries her face in his shoulder, muffling her laugh against the soft material of his T-shirt, then gets up and asks if he needs a hand.

"Arthur doesn't believe in helping people up, so no, thank you; I can manage on my own," Killian tells her, jokingly glaring daggers at Arthur, and Emma steps back, shooting Killian's therapist a grateful look because he is doing an amazing job with him.

"One would think you'd be grateful that I taught you how to do things on your own, considering how hard it is for you to ask for help."

"Good excuse, but we both know you love to watch me suffer," Killian says with a sigh and stand up with minimal amount of wobbling, getting back into position between the bars.

"Hilarious," Arthur murmurs and rolls his eyes at Emma, who jumps when her beeper goes off.

"Gotta run," she says and presses a kiss against Killian's mouth before heading out of the gym, yelling "I'll see you after work", over her shoulder, the door cutting off Killian's reply.

* * *

When Emma finishes for that day it's already time for dinner so she dashes across the street for grilled cheese because Killian had been begging for it and she doesn't want to give him a lecture about healthy diet today, not when he'd made so much progress in such a short time.

He deserves something tasty, and even though Emma is sure that her dad sneaks junk food in for him often enough, she wants to be the one to make him happy today.

"Guess what I brought!" She says as she comes into the room and halts awkwardly because Detective Humbert is sitting in a chair by Killian's bed, and judging from Killian's set jaw, he's delivering some bad news. "Hi."

"Hello, Doctor Swan."

"The good Detective was just telling me how they won't be charging Gold with Milah's murder."

"I know you're upset, but-"

"You haven't seen me upset, Detective, and believe me, you don't want to," Killian says and Detective Humbert looks at Emma pleadingly, making her wonder how did he even manage to get his job.

"What are you charging him with, then?" She asks, determined to diffuse the situation because she doesn't want this to impact Killian's recovery; he needs to look on the positive no matter how hard it seems, and she's here to help him with that.

"Aggravated assault and attempted murder."

"If he's proclaimed guilty?"

"One to twenty for the assault and at least ten to life for attempted murder."

"Any chance he could walk free?" Emma asks and prays that the answer to her question is no.

"We've got a pretty solid case, but you never know with these things," Detective Humbert says apologetically and chances a look at Killian, who looks about ready to strangle him. "It would help if Mr. Jones would testify."

"I'll do anything if it means that bastard never sees the outside of a cell again", Killian says through gritted teeth and Emma is grateful that the Detective takes that as his cue to leave.

"I'll keep you posted," he says and offers Killian his hand, their handshake brief and firm, the room eerily quiet when the door clicks shut after Killian's visitor.

"So… Cheese?" Emma asks after a beat and holds up the paper bag, her stomach rumbling with anticipation.

"I'm not really hungry, Swan," Killian says and Emma bites her lip, then sits down next to him and slowly unwraps the bag.

"Are you sure? Because this is really quite delicious," Emma tells him and digs into the sandwich with gusto, closing her eyes when the cheese melts in her mouth.

"Maybe just a bite," Killian says after a minute and Emma hides her smile behind her wrapper, holding open the bag for him but letting him deal with the foil on his own.

"Good?" She asks when he's almost done devouring his food and Killian does a one-shouldered shrug, looking her right in the eyes when he tells her that it's the best grilled cheese sandwich he'd ever had.

"Now that you mention it, I think mine is too," Emma tells him and leans in to kiss him, tasting cheese and never-ending love on his lips.

* * *

Gold's trial doesn't start for another month, by which time Killian is quite adept at walking with a crutch, although he's not quite content with that; he's eager to get rid of it, but some things take time, and learning to walk on a prosthetic is one of those.

"I just don't want the jury to pity me. Or anyone, really," Killian tells Emma on the first day of trial as she drives them to the courthouse, and she curses herself for not taking him for an outing before this; his first day out of the hospital shouldn't be spent in a courtroom with the man who had taken so much from him.

"I know you don't, but people can't help themselves."

"You can."

"I'm a doctor. It's different," Emma tells him and slams on the breaks when some idiot cuts her off.

"Bloody Hell."

"Sorry."

"Quite alright," Killian says and something about his inflection and the stress of the day ahead of them makes her giggle.

"You alright there, Swan? You're gripping that wheel awfully tight."

"I'm fine."

They arrive at the courthouse with time to spare but the reporters are already there, and Emma is grateful for Detective Humbert who's waiting for them, opening Emma's door and jogging around the car to offer Killian help, which he promptly refuses.

The reporters descend on them in a wave of noise and microphones, and Emma feels her stomach drop when Killian almost trips over the curb.

"Give us some room, please," Datective Humbert yells and holds out his arm to keep the reporters from coming closer while Emma positions herself on Killian's other side and does the same.

She ignores the microphones in front of her face and keeps the pace with Killian, holding her breath as he navigates the five low steps to the courthouse, two security guards meeting them at the door and escorting them inside.

"Let's not repeat that on the way out," Killian says and Emma agrees wholeheartedly, her fingers briefly tangling with his before Detective Humbert introduces them to the prosecutor, a surprisingly young man named Jefferson who shows them where they are going to sit during the trial.

The court house fills slowly and Emma's attempts at small talk are met with mono-syllabic answers from Killian; he's so tightly wound she can feel it beneath her fingers when she lies her hand on his back, his black leather jacket stretched across his shoulders.

Emma checks her phone to make sure that August has everything under control at the hospital so she doesn't realize that Gold has been led into the courtroom until she glances at Killian and sees the way he's glaring at the defense table, where Gold is talking to his attorney, appearing completely undisturbed by the situation he's in.

The muscle in Killian's jaw jumps and Emma reaches under the table, laying her hand on his knee, squeezing until he shifts his midnight blue eyes from Gold to her face.

"We're gonna nail him," she says, and she believes in it with every fiber of her being.

Killian nods and covers her hand with his, and they spend the next two hours listening to the prosecutor and Gold's attorney make their opening statements before the court breaks for lunch.

Jefferson calls Emma to the stand first and it feels a little like an out of body experience, but she answers every question with conviction, and doesn't waver at all when Mr. Glass tries to shake her up with a few questions about her relationship to Killian.

"I did feel attracted to Mr. Jones, but I made sure it didn't interfere with my work ethic; if anything, it made me an even more diligent physician," Emma says and Jefferson nods in time with Emma's answer, clearly pleased that she's sticking to his advice.

Gold's attorney tries another tactic to rattle her, but the judge is having none of it, and Emma is released from the stand, relief flooding through her as she walks back to her seat; it takes a lot of willpower for her not to give in to the urge to throw her arms around Killian, but she manages not to touch him at all so as not to harm their case.

The judge glances at his watch and asks the prosecution to call their next witness, the courtroom going quiet as a tomb as every pair of eyes tracks Killian's progress to the stand.

Emma bites her lip because she can tell by his gait that every step is agony; he'd never worn his new leg for more than two hours at a time, and it's been over six since he'd strapped it on this morning, but he soldiers on stoically, his gaze sharp and his answers crisp.

The defense attorney seems reluctant to interrupt and Gold is visibly seething, even getting to his feet at one point when Killian accuses him of killing his wife.

"Mr. Glass! Restrain your client. And the jury will disregard Mr. Jones' remark about Milah Gold," the judge says sternly, but the members of the jury all look stricken and Emma doubts that they are going to manage that.

She knows that she wouldn't be able to if she were in their shoes.

It's a relief for everyone when the court is adjourned for the day, and instead of driving Killian back to the hospital, Emma heads for the harbor instead.

"Swan… Where are we going?"

"I thought you might light seeing your ship again after a day like today," she tells him and it seems that the weariness simply melts away, his expression turning from pensive to eager in a second.

"You won't get in trouble for that?"

Emma raises her eyebrows and parks the Bug at the end of the dock, both of them staying in their seats and looking out at the ocean and the Jolly Roger bobbing gently on the waves.

"Maybe this isn't such a good idea," Killian voices what she'd just been thinking; considering the state of his leg, he probably won't be able to put the prosthetic back on once he takes it off, and spending the night together on his ship isn't wise when they have to return to the courthouse first thing tomorrow morning.

"A raincheck? Until Gold is behind bars and they release you from the hospital?"

"It's a date," Killian says and leans across the seats to kiss her, and in that moment she would've given everything to just be able to stay with him; she wants them to make love, she had wanted that for a while now, but other things take precedence, and so she's the first one to pull away, nuzzling his nose with hers for a moment before putting the car back in gear and driving away, leaving the ocean and his ship behind them.

* * *

Belle takes the stand the day after Emma and Killian, and when she gets upset half-way through it, the jury starts looking at Gold like the monster he is, and not even his slimy testimony can change their minds.

It says a lot that Gold's attorney doesn't call anybody else to the stand.

Jefferson gives a spirited closing argument and the wait for the verdict is only ten minutes long, which is a relief to Emma because Killian can't stop pacing and she fears that after the beating his stump had taken yesterday, his recovery is going to suffer for it.

"Have you reached Your verdict?"

"We have, Your Honor."

There's buzzing in Emma's ears and Killian's hand is squeezing hers a bit too tight, but the outcome of the trial is what they had hoped for; Gold is found guilty on all accounts, and his prison sentence accumulates to thirty-seven years without parole, which basically means the rest of his life, considering his current age.

The reporters are doing their best to make their way to the front of the courtroom but the bailiffs are unrelenting, and Detective Humbert appears by Killian's side, escorting the two of them through a side exit and out to the parking lot.

"So that's it, then?" Killian asks, sounding as stricken as Emma feels.

"He can file an appeal, but I don't think it will do him much good," Detective Humbert says with an uncharacteristically dark grin and Killian pulls Emma into a tight hug, holding her close for a long time.

Emma hopes that this verdict is going to help him heal and put the nightmare behind him, and even though it can't bring back Milah or his lost limbs, it might just give him some peace.

"It think it would be best if you left before the reporters make their way around the building," Detective Humbert interrupts their snuggle session and Killian shakes his hand before he settles into the passenger seat of Emma's Bug and she drives them away.

* * *

 **Review?**


	19. A Magical Night

**Thank you for being so patient with me, and I hope you enjoy the chapter where Emma and Killian finally come together.**

* * *

Almost a month passes before Emma is parking her car a block from the docks, a month of stolen kisses in the winter garden and private pool sessions that go as far as possible without going all the way. She checks her curls in the mirror and shrugs into her coat before locking her car; longing for the sun and the day it's warm enough for Killian to take her and Henry out on the ocean.

Emma takes a short walk to where the Jolly Roger is moored, the heels of her ankle boots hitting the dock as she approaches and alerting Killian to her presence.

He appears on the deck and watches her with his hand resting on the ship rail, his smile revealing dimples in his cheeks and jumbling her thoughts because he looks so good, healthy and strong, the only sign of everything he'd been through being the steel hook he has in the place of his left hand.

"Ahoy there, Swan!" He greets her and holds out his hand to help her board, and she can practically feel her pupils dilating because he's wearing a black shirt under a deep blue vest with jeans that hang just so on his hips, a spark igniting between them as soon as they touch.

"Ahoy," she replies and smiles against his mouth when he pulls her close and greets her with a warm kiss.

"Dinner's almost ready," he tells her and as he leads her below deck she notices that his limp is slightly more pronounced today than it usually is, but she decides not to say anything; after all, she's not here as his doctor.

It's warm in the little kitchen and Killian helps her take off her coat, then looks at her with hungry eyes and tells her she looks stunning.

"Thank you," Emma says and feels her cheeks burn from intensity of his gaze; she feels nervous and giddy all at once, and when Killian pours her a glass of rum they toast to health and she downs it in one gulp.

"I love a woman who can hold her liquor," Killian tells her with a wink and pours her another round, but she sets the glass aside because she's already buzzing as it is.

"What's for dinner?"

"Tortillas with three kinds of meat," Killian says and bends down to peer into the oven. "My own recipe."

"You are a man of many talents, Mr. Jones," Emma says teasingly and leans her hip against the edge of the counter, a chill running down her spine when his gaze caresses up her body before meeting hers.

"And you still haven't discovered all of them," he says, all innuendo and confidence before he returns his attention to their dinner. "Time to take it out."

"Want me to set the table?"

"No, no, you just sit and relax," he says and Emma nods, watching him ease the pan down on top of the stove and close the oven with his knee; she knows how the prosthetics he's using works, but she's still impressed at the ease with which he moves around after just a few months of practice.

"Did you hear from Will lately?" She asks as he puts a tortilla roll on her plate, shaking her hand when he asks if she wants more than one.

"I called him last week, but he still hasn't called me back," Killian says and even though he's making an effort to sound nonchalant, it's clear that he's worried.

"We could go visit him tomorrow," Emma suggests and crosses her legs to give him more room when he slides on the bench across the table from her.

"Do you think he's alright?" He asks her softly, his blue gaze meeting hers for a moment before he looks away. "What am I even asking; of course he's not alright."

"He's dying," Emma says equally softly and covers his hand with hers. "Maybe he just didn't feel like talking to you when you called."

"Perhaps," Killian allows and makes a visible effort to brighten up. "Let's not talk about such grim subjects tonight."

"Okay," Emma agrees and reaches for her knife and fork, then decides to just take the tortilla roll in her hand and bites into it carefully so as not to burn herself.

It's not an exaggeration to say that she'd never tasted anything better in her entire life.

"What do you think?" Killian asks and follows her example of abandoning the cutlery, grinning when she closes her eyes and hums with enjoyment.

"It's amazing," she tells him when she swallows and polishes up the rest of her roll in record time.

"You sure I can't tempt you with another one?"

"How about we share it?" Emma suggests and he agrees, putting another one on her plate and leaving it to her to slice it in half. "Where did you learn to cook so well?"

"My father was useless in the kitchen, so Liam and I were forced to learn if we didn't want to live on pasta and hot dogs," Killian says and licks his lips, heat racing through her veins when his knee bumps against hers under the table. "That was when I learned the basics, and the rest I picked up on my travels."

"I never had time to learn how to cook," Emma tells him and forces herself to stop contemplating undressing him; this is only their first official date and she's not sure if he'd be willing to take things further than what they've done already.

"It's not that complicated; there's a lot of slicing and dicing and then waiting for it to be done," Killian tells her with a wink and bites into the second roll.

"Liar," Emma says and leans back against the bench, feeling pleasantly full.

"I can teach you if you want."

"I'd like that," Emma murmurs and takes a sip of her drink.

"How did Henry's spelling contest go?"

"He won second place."

"That's great."

"You'd think that, but he was so disappointed," Emma says and rolls her eyes. "It's all Regina's influence because she keeps telling him that he should always aim to be the best in everything he does."

"It's a lot of pressure for a twelve year old," Killian agrees and Emma is grateful that they see eye to eye on this.

"He has to get used to the fact that he won't always be the best no matter how much he works for it."

"He'll learn eventually," Killian tells her and wipes his hand on a napkin before entwining their fingers together.

"Every time I try to suggest that she eases up a little she rubs my nose in the fact that she was the one who raised him for eleven years," Emma says mournfully and finishes her drink, wishing she could find a way to talk to Regina without getting pissed off.

"Come here," Killian says and tugs on her hand until she stands up, then settles her sideways on his lap. "Forget about what Regina tells him; it's more important that you talk to Henry and teach him that it's not about winning. It's about getting back in the saddle when he loses."

"I try to do that."

"Then you've nothing to worry about," Killian tells her and gives her a cute little kiss on the cheek. "Let's go up on the deck. I want to show you something."

They put on their coats and Killian leads her to the bow of the ship, the horizon opening up in front of them, Emma's breath catching in her throat when she sees the sky; the moon is half-hidden behind a cloud but there's a field of stars winking at them, and to Emma it feels like a big, private celestial show.

"It's so beautiful."

"You should see what it looks like in the middle of the ocean," Killian tells her and kisses the back of her hand before he releases it and tells her to stay where she is.

"Where are you going?"

"You'll see."

Emma raises her eyebrows in question but doesn't follow him, only taking her eyes from the sky when she hears the motor start and they start moving.

She makes her way to the ship's wheel and stands next to Killian as he guides his ship out of the harbor and aims it north.

"Where are we going?"

"There's a little cove ten minutes ahead, away from the city lights," he tells her and it's only when they reach it that Emma realizes how many stars there actually are.

Killian drops the anchor and they sit on the deck with a blanket thrown over their legs looking up, kissing and talking quietly, and to Emma it feels like she'd somehow stepped into a fairytale, entered some other dimension where everything is magical and wonderful.

* * *

She must've dozed off with her head on Killian's shoulder because he's saying her name, his voice low in her ear when he tells her how late it is.

"I should take us back to the docks," he says and Emma shakes her head because she's comfortable and she doesn't want to go anywhere. "Unless you want to spend the night."

It takes her sleepy mind a full minute to catch up and then she's suddenly wide awake.

"I'd like that," she tells him and tilts her head back to look at him. "If you want me to."

Killian doesn't answer, just leans down and kisses her deeply, his tongue tracing her bottom lip until she opens up and allows him access into her mouth. They sigh together and Emma feels warm all over, her fingers busying themselves with the buttons of Killian's vest until he pulls back and tells her that they should go below in a husky voice that leaves Emma feeling tingly and anxious.

The kitchen is lit with only one light, the one above the stove, and Emma wraps her arms around Killian and presses him against the wall as soon as they shrug out of their coats. He chuckles at her impatience and kisses her with equal desperation, his fingers tangling in her hair and his handless arm wrapping around her waist, pulling her against his hardness.

Emma doesn't waste time waiting for him to figure out how to unzip her dress, getting rid of it on her own, her lips never leaving his, her hands tugging his shirt out of his pants and sliding under it; his skin is smooth and warm, and her heart stutters when his kiss turns gentler, becomes just a brushing of his soft lips against hers.

The dress is left on the floor as Killian urges her backwards, her arms wrapping around his neck as they make their way to his bed, still kissing, their bodies still pressed against each other.

When the backs of Emma's knees hit the edge of the bed she reluctantly releases him and sits down, quickly taking off her boots before scooting backward and leaning against the headboard.

"Coming?" She asks because Killian is still standing in the doorway, his face in shadow as the moonlight falls across the bed and illuminates her skin. "Killian?"

"Yes," he tells her and walks around the bed, sitting on the side and hesitating after he takes one boot off.

"Are you alright?" She asks when he still doesn't move a full minute later and kneels behind him, kissing the side of his neck and thinking how she wouldn't mind drowning in a bottle of his perfume.

Killian chuckles mirthlessly and tells her that he didn't imagine it going like this.

"Like what?"

He takes a deep breath and finally tells her what's bothering him.

"I don't know if I should take my prosthetics off or not," he says, and Emma is slightly confused because she'd seen him without them plenty of times, but she decides not to point it out.

"What would make you more comfortable?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder so that she can see his face.

"I don't want to hurt you," he says and Emma shakes her head, straddles his lap and cups his cheeks in her hands before speaking.

"You won't hurt me."

He kisses her hungrily and Emma gets to work on finishing unbuttoning first his vest, then his shirt, helping him take them both off before she pushes him back on the bed and leans over him, her hair spilling over his shoulders when she kisses his collarbone, her fingers sliding down his arms until her right hand encounters the alien material of his prosthetic.

"I want to take it off," he tells her and Emma sits back, her fingers lightly caressing his stomach as he wrestles with the straps, his moves more urgent the closer she gets to his belt buckle.

Once the prosthetic is out of the way Killian wraps his arms around Emma and rolls them over, pinning her with his body and applying his skillful mouth to her neck, her fingers tangling in his hair and her hips rising because the insistent pressure inside of her is seeking release, and he's the only one who can give it to her.

He unclasps her bra and she takes it off, flinging it somewhere beyond the edge of the bed and looking up to find him licking his lips before he cups her breast in his hand and leans down to taste her.

Emma moans and rubs herself against him, eager to feel him between her legs and wishing she could just magic his jeans and her panties out of the way.

As if he can read her mind Killian braces his weight on his elbows and kisses her, giving her just enough room to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans; she pushes them down past his hips before she slides her hand underneath the waistline of his boxers and wraps her fingers around him.

He's hard and thick and warm, and she's beyond ready for him.

Killian kneels between her legs and roughly tugs her panties down her legs, his fingers sliding up the inside of her thigh before he covers her with his body again.

"I want to be on top," she tells him and she's pretty sure he growls before rolling them so that she's where she wants to be, pulling his boxers down and guiding him inside without taking her eyes off his.

"Swan," he gasps as she lowers her hips, taking him in deep, her hands bracing on his chest as she lifts herself up and comes down even lower than before, feeling the pressure inside her rise further when Killian's fingers dig in her waist and urge her to move faster.

Emma closes her eyes and focuses only on the way this feels, on the slide of Killian's skin against hers, on the way he fills her and the way he holds her as they climb higher and higher; it feels to her like they are alone in the world, like there's nobody and nothing else except the two of them and the way they are making love.

The pressure rises and Emma keeps chasing that allusive peak, but she doesn't catch it until she opens her eyes and meets Killian's ocean gaze, falling into his eyes and feeling everything around her explode in the best possible way.

Killian sits up and wraps his arms around her, rolling her on her back and kissing her as he thrusts into her, her arms and legs wrapping around him, her hips rising to meet his until he finds his own release and she falls off from a great height for the second time.

Afterwards, they lie facing each other, his hand resting on her waist, her nose pressed against his cheek as they try to catch their breath after a ride of a lifetime, and Emma realizes that there is no need for words.

She loves him, he loves her, and they both know it.

Killian Jones is the one for her and she wouldn't trade him for the world.

* * *

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	20. Restless

**A lot happens in this chapter, and not all of it is good, but please don't worry, the happy ending isn't that far away. Thank you for reading, and enjoy!**

* * *

Emma borrows one of Killian's shirts and snuggles under the covers, waiting for him to finish in the bathroom and come back to bed. She feels pleasantly achy and more relaxed than she'd been in a good long while, but she doesn't want to sleep until Killian returns, until his arms are wrapped around her again and her head is resting on his shoulder.

When Killian finally appears in the doorway Emma gives him a dopey smile, watching him walk around the bed and sit on the edge, wearing nothing but gray pajama bottoms, every muscle of his chest starkly outlined in the moonlight.

"Awake enough to lend me a hand?" He asks her and Emma gives him a quizzical look as she sits up.

"Of course."

"The thing is, I can't take the leg off using just one hand, and I'd rather not wrestle the hook on just to have to take it off again," he explains and Emma crawls from under the covers, kneeling in front of him as he pulls up his pajama pants leg up.

"I just unscrew this and twist, right?" She asks and grins when Killian looks stunned. "Doctor here. I did a rotation on Orthopedics."

"You are a marvel," he tells her softly as she lies his prosthetic leg on the floor and rolls down the pressure sock that protects his stump.

"Ouchy," she says when she notices how red his skin is. "Been overdoing it a bit?"

"I'm fine," he says automatically and she tips her head back, giving him a sideways look because she's not going to let him brush it off so easily.

"Where's the cream?"

Killian sighs, but then obviously decides it would be best if he just answered her, so he points at the nightstand next to his bed; she finds a white container in the first drawer and takes it out, but when she's about to dip her fingers in his voice stops her.

"I'll do it," he says sharply and Emma hands over the container without a word, brushing past him as she gets into bed and rolls on her side so that her back is to him.

The room is eerily quiet and Emma closes her eyes, telling herself he didn't mean to snap at her, telling herself that she needs to cut him some slack, and still feeling awful because she didn't deserve his short temper.

The bed dips when Killian slides in behind her and wraps his arms around her waist, but she lies there stiff as a board and she knows he can tell.

"I'm sorry, Swan," he says softly next to her ear and even though she wants to turn around and hold him, she forces herself to remain motionless. "I don't want you to think that you're always going to have to help me with this or that."

"I don't mind helping you."

"I know, love, but all this is new to me… I've spent my whole life relying on nobody but myself," he says and although she understands where he's coming from, she needs him to understand that he can't talk like this to her.

"I care about you, Killian. If I needed your help, wouldn't you help me?"

"It's not the same."

"It's exactly the same," she tells him and rolls around to face him, her hands cupping his cheeks to punctuate her point. "Everybody needs help sometimes."

"Sometimes, aye."

"You cooked for me today and I helped you with your leg; the sooner you start seeing those things as equal, the better," Emma says and kisses him before he can argue with her further. "Think about it."

"I must've done something right to deserve you," he murmurs as she burrows around until she finds a comfortable position, her nose pressed against his shoulder and her leg trapped between his; he tucks the covers around them and holds her close, and she wants to tell him that he's not bad himself, but it's late and she can't keep her eyes opened any longer, so she just tips her head back and kisses the underside of his jaw before she surrenders to sleep.

* * *

Emma wakes up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee and rolls over to find the bed empty.

"Killian?" She calls and sits up, running her fingers through her tangled hair and licking her lips in anticipation when he carries in a breakfast tray and sets it across her knees.

"Morning, lass."

"Morning," Emma says and takes a sip of coffee as Killian sits down next to her, then leans in for a kiss.

"I've been thinking about what you said last night," he tells her and accepts a piece of bacon she offers him, chewing it thoughtfully as she takes a bite of her omelet.

"I wish you could cook for me every day," Emma says and closes her eyes, marveling at the fact that something as simple as eggs with bacon can taste so good.

"Is this a subtle way of you telling me you want to move in?" He asks her and she opens her eyes to find him wiggling his eyebrows at her with a cheeky grin.

"Keep dreaming, buddy," Emma says and eats another forkful of her eggs. "You were saying..."

"You were right," Killian tells her seriously and brushes the backs of his fingers against her cheek. "I was a stubborn arse and I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," Emma says and kisses his fingers, then applies herself to finishing breakfast.

Killian tries calling Will again and this time somebody picks up, but judging by the way color drains from his face, the news aren't good.

Emma lays her hand on his elbow, her thumb smoothing over his skin until he end the conversation with a terse "goodbye".

"What happened?"

"That was a nurse in Maine Medical. They admitted Will two days ago," Killian says and pinches the bridge of his nose. "She says we should come if we want to see him before…"

"I'm ready to go," Emma says and shrugs into her coat, standing on the deck with Killian as he sails the Jolly Roger back into the harbor, watching the muscle in his jaw jumping as he grits his teeth.

Tears are burning her sinuses but Emma manages to keep them at bay, driving them to the hospital and entwining her fingers with Killian's when the automatic doors open to admit them inside.

"I bloody hate hospitals," Killian says as they wait for the elevator and Emma doesn't really know what to say to that so she just squeezes his fingers and leads him toward the ICU.

She wonders why Will hadn't returned to Mercy when his condition worsened, but doesn't have time to dwell on it because a nurse greets them at the door and tells them they can only go in one at a time.

"I'm a doctor over at Mercy," Emma tells her and holds up her ID, refusing to let Killian face this on his own; the friendships forged in hospitals are often the strongest, and as much as she cares about Will's wellbeing, she knows that Killian cares about him more.

The last time Emma had seen Will was about three weeks ago when he'd met Killian and her for coffee, and it's hard to believe that the thin, pale figure she can see through the window is really him.

"You have ten minutes," the nurse says and Emma nods in acknowledgement, gently nudging Killian forward.

Will's eyes open when she lies her hand on his shoulder and he blinks a few times, his face lighting up when he recognizes them.

"Hey, lovebirds," he says and Emma returns his smile even though there's a lump in her throat she can't seem to swallow.

"Do you need anything?" Killian asks and Will shakes his head, then grimaces and asks Emma if she can hook him up with more painkillers.

Emma slips her hand from Killian's and looks over Will's chart, hating that she has to refuse him.

"They are already giving you everything they can."

"No harm in asking," Will says and pokes Killian's prosthetic. "This is new."

"It's a better model," Killian says, his voice breaking around a forced smile.

"Oh cheer up, would you, mate? We all have to die someday."

"You're such a stubborn arsehole, I had expected you to outlive us all," Killian says and Will chuckles, then starts coughing so violently he can't catch his breath.

Emma helps him sit up and have a sip of water, rubbing his back until the fit passes, and when she looks over her shoulder the nurse is standing in the doorway pointing at her watch.

"It's time to go."

Killian looks shell-shocked but he manages to shake himself out of his stupor, squeezing Will's shoulder and telling him to text if he needs anything, reluctantly following Emma out of his room.

"I'm supposed to take Henry to the cinema after lunch," Emma says as she comes out of the hospital parking lot. "Would you like to come with us?"

"Aye," Killian says simply and Emma lays a comforting hand on his thigh, keeping her thoughts to herself because she knows the words aren't worth much in a situation like this.

* * *

Will passes away on the last day of April and Killian gets awfully quiet, frowning his way through the funeral and ignoring all of Emma's attempts to talk to him. She gets the feeling that he's mad at her, but when she asks, he tells her to leave it alone.

Despite his quiet, Killian seems to prefer her company to solitude, so Emma ends up spending every other night at his ship, where they make love and hold each other until they fall asleep, but no matter how early she sets her alarm clock, she always wakes up to find Killian already making breakfast.

"Henry keeps asking when are you going to take him sailing," Emma says on a Sunday morning and looks up at Killian; it's one of the rare occasions she'd managed to keep him in bed after dawn by simply lying on top of him and refusing to let him up.

"We can go today if you want," he says, his fingers tracing lazy circles on her back.

"I have to call Regina and ask her if it's okay with her," Emma groans and stays exactly where she is.

"I'm sure she's going to be amenable to your suggestion," Killian says and Emma smiles to herself, then stretches up to give him a kiss.

"I love the way you talk."

"Do you now?" He asks with a cocky grin and rolls them over so that his weight is pressing her into the mattress. "And what else do you love about me?"

"Everything," Emma tells him, her eyes meeting his because it's important to her that he knows she's serious. "I love everything about you, Killian. Every single thing."

It's impossible to count all the emotions crossing his face, his eyes shining with a light that's been gone for weeks now, and when Killian leans down and says "I love you" against her lips, Emma thinks that from now on, everything is going to be alright.

* * *

Spring seems to fly by in a whirlwind of work and sailing, almost every weekend spent on Killian's ship; sometimes they take Henry, sometimes Henry and her parents, and on one memorable occasion Elsa brings August, who is so smitten with her that he just smiles and follows her around the ship.

Emma finds it hilarious, and at the same time fitting that it would take somebody as down to earth as Elsa to finally make him want to settle down.

Not everything is wonderful, though; as it gets warmer, Killian gets more and more restless, and at first Emma thinks it's just his prosthetics chafing, but he can't sleep either, and she often wakes up alone, going up on the deck to find Killian leaning against the rail and looking up at the stars.

"What's wrong?" Emma asks softly but Killian still jumps, almost losing his balance because it's been a while since he'd last bothered with the prosthetic in the middle of the night.

Killian signs and points to a crate a few feet away.

"Let's sit."

Emma feels queasy because whatever he's got to tell her, it's nothing good.

They sit, and Killian is still quiet, looking at Emma as if he aims to memorize every single line of her face.

"I've been offered a contract for another book," he finally says and Emma grins, leaning in and wrapping her arms around him.

"That's wonderful. Congratulations."

"It's not," he whispers and she pulls back to look at him.

"What do you mean?"

"If I'm to write another book, I can't do it by staying here, Emma. I have to sail away."

"Oh," Emma breathes, feeling stupid for not realizing right away what's got him so upset.

"I didn't expect them to call. I was thinking about starting my own business fairing tourists up and down the coast, but they did call and they want me to go back as if nothing happened."

"You have to go," Emma says softly, trying desperately not to let her voice waver, not to ruin this for him because she knows how much he'd been longing for everything he'd lost; he's never going to get his hand and leg back, but everything else, he can reclaim.

"I want to go, but I don't think I can bear leaving you," Killian tells her, his eyes holding her spellbound, his fingers entwining with hers as if he's never going to let go.

Emma knows that he's going to regret it forever if he doesn't do this.

"How long are you going to be away?"

"Swan-"

"You are going, and that's the end of it. Now tell me everything; how long, where are you going to go, and when are you supposed to leave?" Emma asks and gives him a brave smile even though she feels like her heart is breaking.

"If I go, I should leave at the end of June. I'm supposed to cross the Atlantic, sail around Africa and come back through the Mediterranean Sea."

How long?"

"Four months," he says and Emma can't hide the stunned look on her face. "I won't go."

"You will go."

"Swan-"

"We've been through this already."

"I don't want to lose you," he exclaims and Emma shakes her head, blinking fast to keep the tears at bay when he tells her again that he can't lose her. "I'd ask you to come with me but I know you can't leave Henry."

"Or my job."

Killian hangs his head and Emma can't bear to see him so dejected.

"Four months will fly by, and then you're going to come back and I might even move in," Emma says and he perks up instantly.

"You will?"

"I said I might," Emma tells him and he chuckles, then wraps his arms around her waist and tugs until she's sitting across his lap.

"Are you sure, Swan?" He asks, looking deep in her eyes and tangling his fingers in her hair the way he likes to do.

The last thing in the world she wants is to watch him sail away, but keeping him here would destroy him, and Emma would rather bear the separation than watch him suffer.

"I'm sure," she says and wraps her arms around his neck, holding on tightly and making a conscious effort not to think about the future.

Killian is here now, warm and solid, and it's the only thing that matters.

* * *

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	21. Half the World Away

**Thank you for all your encouragement, and I hope I will see you tomorrow for the last chapter and the happy ending. Enjoy!  
**

* * *

The week before Killian is supposed to sail away passes by in a blur of preparation and making love, but to him it feels like an eternity with Emma wouldn't be enough; his lass is like a Goddess in human form and he simply doesn't know how will he manage to say goodbye to her.

It humbles him how encouraging she is, upbeat and enthusiastic about his impending journey, only her expressive green eyes betraying her real state of mind; she wants him to stay, but she knows as well as he does that this is something he just has to do.

One thing is different on this journey than on all the ones he'd taken so far; he's not going to go alone. When he'd half-heartedly suggested it Emma almost took his head off, and it was more relief than defeat to admit he needs help.

The ocean is a treacherous lover, and no matter how good he is with his prosthetics, there are still things he simply cannot do without considerable risk to injury and possible shipwreck.

The process of finding his first mate doesn't last very long at all, and after just three candidates Killian settles on a weathered, bald guy named Leroy; he grumbles through the interview, but he doesn't seem the least bit rattled when faced with the realities of Killian's disability, so Killian hires him on the spot.

"Ahoy there, sailors," Emma calls from the dock and Killian looks up from securing the supplies against the ship's rail, grinning at her as she climbs the gangway.

"Hello, Miss Swan," Leroy calls from the bow and Emma shares an amused look with Killian because the grumpy sea wolf seems to have developed a crush on her in the week since he'd been hired; it doesn't come as a surprise to Killian because he is so smitten with his beautiful girlfriend it surprises him that the whole world isn't in love with her.

Killian holds out his hand to help Emma on board and tugs her into his embrace, pressing a kiss to her eager lips despite Leroy's glare because they don't have a lot of time left.

The Jolly Roger will set sail next Sunday and even though Emma spends every night on the ship with him, Killian wishes she could spend days here too.

Alas, a doctor's schedule isn't as flexible as both he and Emma would like.

"We have dinner reservations in an hour," Emma says and slides her hand underneath Killian's black t-shirt, pressing her palm against the small of his back. "You should go shower."

"Only if you agree to join me."

"Killian! What about Leroy?"

"He's done for the day anyway," Killian says and gives Emma his best smoldering look.

"You're incorrigible."

"Just hungry for you," he tells her and her expression slowly morphs from playfulness to wistfulness.

"I'll wait for you below deck," Emma says and stands up on tiptoes, pressing a kiss to his cheek before she climbs down the ladder.

Killian stands motionless for a moment, staring at the place where her blonde head had disappeared before shaking himself and turning to face Leroy.

"You know, if the two or you weren't so in love, you'd be disgusting to watch."

Killian just grins, and Leroy rolls his eyes in a pretty astounding way.

"You can take off for today."

"Are you sure everything will be ready, though?" Leroy asks, back to his usual professional self, and Killian assures him that it will.

Even if it isn't, they can always postpone the trip for a couple of days, and no harm done.

Leroy salutes and leaves quickly, as if Killian might change his mind and call him back; as long as Emma is aboard the ship that is less likely to happen than a snowfall in Hell.

Killian makes his way to the bedroom, anticipation building in him when he sees Emma's discarded dress and underwear thrown haphazardly down on the bed. He straightens everything out and quickly gets off his own clothes, leaving the prosthetic hook on a chair in the corner and keeping the leg on, forever grateful that Emma had managed to get him a waterproof prosthetic that doesn't only make showers easier, but will also hold up better once he sets sail.

He steps into the foggy bathroom and pauses for a moment, admiring the curve of Emma's spine and the flare of her hips, his fingers itching with the urge to touch her, love her and make her glow.

"There you are," she says and looks at him over her shoulder, her wet hair sticking to her arms and revealing the perfect mounds of her breasts when she turns to face him.

"Gods you're beautiful," he tells her and she just smiles, reaching out her hands and grasping his forearms, drawing him under the spray of warm water.

She kisses him with wild abandon, sighing when he presses her against the wall of the shower and wrapping her leg around the back of his, which brings them even closer together, his hardness fitting comfortably against her softness.

The water cascades over Killian's shoulders and Emma's fingers dig into his sides, her head falling back to allow him access to her neck, where he presses open-mouthed kisses until she's gasping for breath and for him.

His fingers find her warm and ready, and he wishes for nothing more than the dexterity to just pick Emma up and make love to her against the wall, but the reality doesn't allow him that, so he lowers the shower seat he'd had installed before he even got released from the hospital and sits down.

"Is it gonna hold us both?" Emma asks, already lifting her leg over and straddling his thighs, and he answers her by tugging her down and kissing her roughly, both his arms wrapped around her waist.

She rubs against him urgently, which makes her nipples slide enticingly against his chest, and Killian groans deep in his throat when her fingers wrap around his length, guiding him where she wants him; he's got no problem letting her take control, and as they climb higher and higher her eyes find his, soft and so filled with love that it's impossible for him to imagine being without her.

And that's precisely the reason he's leaving her, albeit temporarily.

* * *

On the evening before Killian's departure they don't go anywhere, just sit on the deck of his ship holding hands and staring at the stars.

"Regina wants to make it official, me leading the diagnostics team," Emma says softly after they've been silent for a while, and his eyebrows shoot up because it seems like she'd been reluctant to share the news.

"That's amazing," he says, but her quiet shrug stops him from going overboard with enthusiasm. "Unless you don't want that responsibility."

"I do want it."

"But?"

"But I'm so scared of failure," she says and turns her head to the side to look at him. "What if I make the wrong decision?"

"You've been a doctor for quite some time, love. Why are you afraid now?"

"I don't know… I guess… I guess I had never expected I would be the one making the most difficult decisions on my own."

"I believe in you, Swan, and Regina obviously does too. You should believe in yourself and take a leap of faith," Killian says and brings her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles and willing all thoughts of tomorrow away.

"It's a big leap."

"No, it's really not. I've seen how you work, and how you give all of yourself to your patients; if you keep on being like that, I don't see how you could fail."

"I guess."

"You knew what was wrong with me before anybody else."

"And I didn't trust in my own judgment," Emma says and he wishes there was a way to convince her that what happened to him wasn't her fault, so that they could leave that old argument in the past where it belongs.

"Then trust yourself next time," he says and she shakes herself, tells him she'll think about it and tips her head back again to stare at the starry sky. "Swan-"

"I don't want to talk about it anymore. Not tonight," she says, and he doesn't want to push her, but he's of the opinion they should talk about it precisely because of what happens tomorrow.

"Just consider this; the list of patients who are around because of you is longer than the one of dearly departed," he says but she doesn't give any sign that she'd heard him.

"Let's go to bed," she simply says and he is too weak to do anything but comply.

They make love slowly and she falls asleep with her nose pressed against his neck, her legs entwined around what's left of his, her body warm and lovely in the pale moonlight coming through the small round window of his cabin.

Killian knows he should sleep too, but he's too wired and too raw with their imminent separation to waste even a moment of Emma Swan, even if she's just slumbering peacefully in his arms.

For the millionth time he wonders if he's doing the right thing, if he should just call the whole journey off and stay right here, but once more he comes to the same conclusion he always does; he wouldn't respect himself if he quit before even trying, and Emma would respect him even less.

"Four months will go by in a blink of an eye," he says softly and presses a soft kiss to the top of Emma's head, holding her closer and passing the time by listening to the even sound of her breathing.

Emma wakes him before the dawn with a kiss to the side of his neck, her hands roaming over his body and easily enticing him into one last time, one last explosion before a string of lonely nights they are each going to spend alone in their respective beds.

Afterwards, they make breakfast together, their hands lingering, touching and caressing as they eat, and when Leroy shows up Emma's mask of composure cracks a little, but stays firmly in place.

Regina brings Henry over and he chatters excitedly as the last preparations get underway, but it's not until Mary Margaret and David Nolan climb the gangway that Emma's calm façade breaks completely and she quickly walks away, wrapping her arms around herself as she stands at the bow of the ship looking out at the horizon.

David tips his head to the side and Killian nods in agreement, following his daughter and wrapping his arms around her from behind when he reaches her.

"It will go by faster than you think."

"I know.

"I'll call you every few days."

"I know."

"I have to do this."

"Killian, I know," Emma says and turns around, her hands cupping his cheeks and bringing their foreheads close together. "Just come back safe."

"Of course I will. Don't you know, Swan? I'm much tougher than I look," he tells her and she chuckles even as two tears slide from the corners of her eyes and roll down her cheeks. "Everything will be alright."

"Okay," Emma says and gives him a quick, salty kiss before they make their way back to the others. Killian shakes all their hands, including Henry's, which evidently makes the lad feel all grown up, judging by his solemn nod when Killian asks him to look after his mother.

"You don't have to worry, Killian," Henry says and the adults around him smile, and then one by one they vacate the ship.

Emma is, of course, last, and Killian gives her a thorough parting kiss she ends too soon for his taste, giving him one more longing look before she runs down the gangway and turns around to watch him leave, flanked by her father and son who both reach out to hold her hands.

Killian is frozen for a moment, overcome with longing but then his brave Swan lifts up her chin and nods, and he raises his hand in greeting before turning around and giving his full attention to setting sail.

The horizon is ahead of him, and his belief that Emma is going to wait for him to return makes it a little easier to depart.

And so, after two years on dry land, Killian Jones finally goes back to his first love; the ocean.

* * *

True to his word, Killian calls Emma almost every other night, and it's never been harder being so apart from the rest of the world because now, his world consist mostly of her, of her tales of her days in the hospital and Henry's antics, or how much she misses him.

"I miss you too, love," he tells her, and lying in his bed with his eyes closed and the satellite phone pressed to his ear, he can almost pretend that she's right there beside him.

"Time goes by slowly without you here," she says, like a secret she can only share with him because he knows exactly what she's talking about.

"How's work?"

"I took your advice."

"About the leap of faith?"

"Yeah, but it's actually Regina who's got most to lose if I mess things up."

"You won't mess up anything," Killian tells her firmly, and she sighs like she doesn't quite believe him, but doesn't argue either, and he counts that for victory.

"I have to go, the nurses are paging me," she says abruptly as she often does because he's seven hours ahead of her now, and it makes the distance between them even more palpable.

"Have a nice day, love."

"Good night," she murmurs and then the line is dead and her absence lies heavy on his heart, but he's tired and it doesn't take long for sleep to find him.

* * *

Killian isn't a stranger to near-death experiences aboard his ship, but it's different staring the Grim Reaper in the face when you've got a lass you love more than anything waiting for you across the ocean.

Still, Leroy is more upset than Killian after he hauls him out of the ocean, into which Killian had fallen because of a particularly nasty wind and difficulty with gripping the slippery railing with his hook.

"You could've worn the damn life jacket instead of costing me at least a year of my life," Leroy grumbles as they both catch their breath, and Killian decides then and there that he's never going to tell Emma about what happened, and how close she'd come to losing him.

He'd been two minutes away from running out of strength to keep himself and his heavy prosthetics afloat, and it's the first time he really appreciates Leroy as much as he deserves.

"Thank you, Leroy."

"Whatever. Just don't do this again. I really don't wanna be forced to tell your girl that you drowned," Leroy says and Killian chuckles because his first mate is such a drama queen, but also because he's so glad to be alive.

His impromptu swim in the ocean had given him new perspective on a certain number of things, but once was more than enough and from then on Killian swallows his pride and puts the life jacket on every time he's above deck.

There's nothing left to prove, and he feels guilty for putting himself in such danger because he knows what it would do to Emma if something had happened to him.

He'd given her enough reasons for tears already, and he doesn't intend to add to the list.

* * *

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	22. Homecoming

**And here we are at the end of another story; this ride has been bumpier than most, and it helped me realize that while I can write without Adriane, I can't find the joy in it like I used to; I have plenty of ideas, but execution is another matter altogether... At this point it really feels like TYT is my last fic, especially considering how disappointing 5B has been for CS. Thank you everybody who sent me messages and encouraged me to finish this story, and if I ever decide to write again, it will be because of you and your unwavering support.**

* * *

Since Emma had moved to Portland to be with her son, she had felt that time has sped up; she barely turned around and she was there a month, then three, and then suddenly a whole year.

Now that Killian is away, the time has started moving slow like molasses, every day impossibly long, ever day feeling like a week that drags by and seems like it would never end.

Still, after a month of Killian's absence she thinks that she'd gotten used to being without him, existing without starlit evenings on his ship and waking up in his arms, but somewhere around six weeks mark the sadness hits her so hard she feels like she can't stay at work any longer or she might scream.

But, she's got a job to do, and in order to calm down she heads to Elsa's ward, knowing that babies are the only thing that can help her stay sane without completely ditching work.

"How long until he returns?" Elsa asks her as she examines a bald baby sleeping on the changing table, while Emma holds an alert blonde girl close to her heart, caressing her silky cheek with the back of her finger.

"Don't even ask me. I think I understand those women of old who would wait on the cliffs to welcome their sailors home and ended up falling to their death out of sheer desperation."

"That's dramatic," Elsa chuckles and starts putting the onesie back on the sleeping boy.

"I'm kidding. I think… I've spent most of my life alone and now I can't seem to function properly after knowing Killian for less than six months.

"You've been through a lot together."

"I just want him to come back," Emma says softly and stares at the baby in her arms until her vision clears.

* * *

Emma is snuggled into her bed with the phone pressed to her ear, listening to Killian tell her about the family he'd met and the food they've served him and Leroy completely free of charge, his voice soothing and so beautiful she soon loses herself in the cadence and stops processing the meaning.

"Swan? Did you fall asleep on me?"

"No, I'm still here," she murmurs and stares at the calendar across from her bed upon which she'd been crossing out dates since Killian had left.

"It won't be so long now," Killian says and she could cry because another five weeks seems like a very long time for her when she knows how slowly the days drag by without him.

"The worst is behind us, right?" She says, trying not to whine even though she knows he wouldn't fault her even if she did.

"It is. How are your parents?"

"Good."

"Uh-oh. I assume I'm not their favorite person right now," Killian says and Emma's lips tip up into a smile.

"They are a bit angry on my behalf."

"I can live with that; as soon as I get back I'll start the Operation Make-the-in-Laws-Like-You."

"In-Laws?" Emma asks carefully, surprised at his certainty that someday she'll marry him.

"Didn't you know, Emma? You're my happy ending… Of course I do hope we're going to spend our lives together," he says and warmth spreads from Emma's heart, his devotion and love impossible to miss even across all the miles separating them.

"You should come back soon then," Emma tells him and his reply keeps ringing in her ears long after they hang up.

 _"_ _I'm coming, love."_

* * *

Sometimes after work Emma doesn't go straight home. Sometimes, she leaves her car in the hospital garage and walks the few blocks to the docks, standing at the edge and looking out at the horizon, trying to imagine where Killian is now and what's he doing, and she always hopes that he's safe.

The cold wind blows and Emma shivers because evenings in early July around here aren't as warm as she'd like and she'd forgotten her jacket; she's about to turn around and walk away when her attention catches a graceful ship making its way into the harbor.

It looks so much like the Jolly Roger that her chest aches with longing for Killian, for his arms and his kisses and his smiles, and she stands there rooted to her spot, waiting for the ship to come closer so that she can make sure it's not his.

Minutes pass and Emma's hope soars because if this isn't the Jolly it must be its twin, but since Killian had always told her that his ship is one of a kind, that can't be it.

"Killian," she says under her breath when the dark shape at the wheel of the ship slowly proves to be her sailor, grinning at her as he guides the Jolly with a sure hand until its starboard side softly kisses the dock.

"Evening, love," he calls and Emma pinches her arm, already dreading the moment she's going to wake up.

Her skin smarts and she laughs, practically bouncing in place as Leroy lowers the gangway between the ship and the dock.

"Good evening, Miss Swan," Leroy says with a rare smile and gives her a hand up, flustering at her impulsive hug before she runs to meet Killian, his arms coming around her and lifting her off her feet; he stumbles but doesn't lose his balance completely, and she holds him as tightly as she can.

"You're here," Emma whispers, pulling back abruptly to cup his cheeks in her hands and look at him; he looks tired and his scruff is closer to being a beard, but his eyes are as blue as they ever were, bright and filled with love she feels bubbling in her heart too.

"Old sailors always tell you not to come home without warning your better half beforehand, but I wanted to surprise you."

Emma wants to tell him that he should have warned her, that she would've been less miserable if she knew he was coming sooner, that she's so happy he's home, but all the words get lost in their kisses, their meaning telegraphed quietly, in slide of lips against lips, in tongues tangling and hands wandering over bodies while they sigh and press together like they never mean to be apart again.

When they finally come up for air Leroy is gone, and Killian kisses her forehead before taking her hand and leading her below deck.

They start kissing again as soon as they get into Killian's cabin and he sits on the edge of his bed with Emma straddling his lap, her hands sifting through his hair as the need to have him rises to unbearable heights faster than she had ever thought possible.

"I missed you so much," he says, pressing each syllable into the sensitive skin of her neck, his fingers skimming up her spine under her blouse and finding the hook of her bra, undoing it quickly and pushing her blouse up.

Emma lifts her arms and the blue silk falls on the floor, followed by her bra and his worn gray T-shirt.

"Killian," she whispers and their frantic movements slow down, kisses turning gentle, fingertips sliding over heated skin as he lies her down on his bed and covers her with his body.

Emma opens like a flower and wraps herself around him, finally realizing the true meaning of coming home.

* * *

The dawn is breaking when Emma startles awake, lying motionlessly with her eyes closed as she waits for the reality to crush upon her, but then a strong, warm arm wraps around her from behind and Killian's scent fills her nose, his lips pressing against her shoulder.

"Morning, love," he murmurs and she rolls around, burrowing against him and trying to slow down her racing heart.

"I thought I would have to wait for another month to see you."

"I decided that I had enough material for the new book, so I came back earlier."

"That's the only reason?" Emma asks and tips her head back to look at him, and the smile he gives her makes her heart stutter in her chest.

"It's not. The better reason is that I realized there's nothing more important than being with you."

"Nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing," Killian says and kisses her nose, his thumb caressing her cheek as his eyes roam over her face, and it's clear that he loves every freckle, every single line he sees.

"I'm glad you're home," she tells him, but she doesn't think that those words are strong enough to express all the emotion she feels right now; people say that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and she now knows what they mean by that.

"I am too, love, and there's something I would really like to ask you, if you would let me," he says and Emma feels like there's a million butterflies fluttering their wings in her stomach, so she just nods, to which he kisses her cheek and leans over the edge of the bed, rummaging there for a full minute before facing her again. "This was supposed to be much more graceful and romantic and memorable."

"Shut up and ask me," Emma says with feeling and Killian smirks, then slides off the bed and kneels beside it, his hand reaching for hers.

There's a ring between the palms of their joined hands, and Emma feels hot and cold all at once, her eyes never leaving Killian's as she waits for him to speak.

"I have known you for seven months, but I feel like I knew who you were the moment you walked into my hospital room," Killian says, his gaze open and full of emotion. "You came when I needed someone the most, and you didn't just save my life; you also saved me from myself, and I cannot imagine being without you anymore. I love you more than the ocean and the stars combined, so, Emma Swan, will you marry me?"

"I love you. Yes, yes I will," Emma says and Killian turns over his hand, revealing a delicate gold ring with a star shaped emerald that slides easily onto her finger.

The sunlight breaks off the beautiful gem but Emma thinks that Killian's happiness outshines it by far and she pushes away the covers and tugs on his arm until he's back in bed beside her, and he rolls her so that her thighs are on either side of his hips and her hands braced on his shoulders.

"I have to be in the hospital in an hour."

"That's plenty of time to celebrate our impending nuptials," Killian says in that proper accent of his and Emma doesn't even attempt to resist.

After all, she's going to marry the love of her life and live with him happily ever after.

* * *

Emma's parents insist that Killian has to come to their usual Thursday night dinner, and even though Emma would rather keep him all to herself now that he's finally back, he convinces her that it's better if they go.

"They just want to make sure I'm not going to leave you again," he tells her as she dashes around her bedroom and discards various items of clothing.

"I think the ring on my finger would convince them regardless of you showing up," Emma says and pulls on a shirt over her head.

Killian has been back for three days and this is the first time she'd come back to her place; he's brought her a lot of clothes and little presents from his journey and aside for work it didn't even occur to her to leave his ship, but a dinner with her parents means she needs a fancy outfit, especially considering that they are about to announce their engagement.

"You'll still have plenty of time to have your wicked way with me," Killian tells her with a saucy grin and Emma throws her scrubs at his head before she shimmies into a checkered skirt.

"I know my dad is going to be unpleasant, so we're picking Henry up on the way and bringing him along."

"Miss Swan! I'd have thought that you'd be above using your lad to stonewall your father," Killian chuckles and gasps when Emma abruptly smashes into him and hugs him tightly.

"Please don't go anywhere without me again."

"Never again, love. Never, ever again," Killian murmurs against her ear and holds her until she's ready to let go.

They are late for dinner, but neither one of her parents objects when they finally appear; Henry announces their engagement the second they get into the Nolans' apartment, and even as they get hugged and congratulated, Emma and Killian never let go of each other's hand.

* * *

The wedding of Emma Swan and Killian Jones takes place on the 1st of July on the deck of the Jolly Roger, the space around them crammed with Emma's family and friends that have along the way become Killian's too.

Emma knows that Killian feels the absence of Will despite the happiness of this day, but Leroy is standing up as his best man and despite the tragedy of Will's passing life goes on; they both know that living in the past does nothing but drag you down until you feel like there's no light left in the world.

The ceremony is officiated by Mr. Smee, Killian's literary agent who'd made the trip all the way from England, and the pieces of Emma's life finally fall into place when Killian slips the wedding band on her ring finger and beams at her; her hand is steady when she does the same for him, her thumb rubbing his knuckles gently because even after all the months that have passed, she can still remember precisely the shade of blue they used to be.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife," Mr. Smee says and Killian doesn't wait for permission to kiss Emma, pulling her close and pressing his lips against hers passionately; her parents and her son and his adoptive mother are watching, but all that matters to her is that Killian is here, in her arms, and that they have just been joined for life.

"Who's up for some cake?" Mary Margaret asks enthusiastically and everybody cheers, drifting away to get their slice while Emma and Killian keep holding on, their foreheads pressed together, their arms wrapped tightly around each other's waist.

"How long do we have to wait before we can kick everybody off our ship and set sail?" Emma asks and Killian laughs, turning a few heads because joy is bubbling out of his every pore, and it's the most beautiful sight imaginable for anyone who knows and cares about him, which is everybody present.

"I think it would be rude to do so before the cake is eaten," he tells her and kisses her forehead, then tugs on her hand and leads her to the table where Mary Margaret is handing out plates, assisted by Henry.

The sun is setting when the last of the guests finally leave the ship, standing on the dock and waving the happy couple goodbye as Killian guides the Jolly Roger out of the harbor with his hook holding the wheel and his hand holding Emma.

"See you in two weeks!" Henry yells and Emma blows him an air kiss, leaning against Killian's side and entwining her fingers with his where they are resting on her hip.

"Ready, Dr. Jones?"

"Ready, Captain," Emma murmurs and stands on tiptoes to press a kiss against the fine line of her husband's jaw, sighing contentedly as the Jolly Roger sails away, toward a bright, bright future.

* * *

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